


Searching for Intimacy

by SpitFire97



Series: Searching [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: 1970s, Casual Sex, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Infidelity, M/M, Smut, Unreliable Narrator, slightly destructive behaviour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpitFire97/pseuds/SpitFire97
Summary: It started almost innocent. “What is a blowie between friends?”, Roger had asked and grinned up at Brian with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes and a playful smirk playing around his mouth. He pushed Brian against the wall in their changing rooms and sunk to his knees. “Just promise me, this won’t change anything. Our friendship - we, can't change!" Brian intercepted, almost panicked for a second.This story is about two men, who confuse friendship, attraction and love and engage in pretty self-destructive behaviour while sorting out themselves.Enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story includes real characters but is entirely a work of fiction.

August 1972

It started almost innocent. “What is a blowie between friends?”, Roger had asked and grinned up at Brian with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes and a playful smirk playing around his mouth. “They all do it, you know. To relieve stress.” He then proceeded to push Brian against the wall in their changing rooms and sunk to his knees. When Brian heard the sound of his belt being opened he closed his eyes and let his head sink against the wall. He breathed out a shaky sigh and asked mostly himself “Are you sure this is okay?”. “Sure, just relax”, Roger nuzzled his nose against his hipbone and Brian felt his hands travel to card his hands into the blonde’s messy tresses.

It quickly became a thing between them – to release stress prior to a gig or to relax after being strung up from an argument. First, Brian closed his eyes and pretended the pretty blonde on his knees before him was in fact a girl. But that quickly vanished once he tried reciprocating the first time. Roger had never asked. But Brian figured, since it didn’t matter, it didn’t mean anything if he did it. Roger looked up to him, when he suggested it, with eyes wide with uncertainty but also intrigue, a look, so uniquely Roger, that belied his experience with a kind of naïve innocence.   
He didn’t mind it to his surprise. He had been sure Roger was good since he knew exactly what a man liked, but Brian found himself enjoying the act of stroking Roger until he was positively sobbing and crumbled against Brian’s chest clutching the taller man’s shirt. It gave him absolute power over someone else, he justified the glorious feeling of seeing Rogers messy hair, red-bitten lower lip and intense blue eyes after coming down from his high. He felt the intense urge to kiss his friend. So, he did. Roger looked up after and almost shyly thanked him.

Roger had always been a touchy person - he clung to Deaky, flirted shamelessly with Freddie – well, with everything on two legs, to be precise. So it was not a surprise to anyone in the group when he started pecking Brian on his cheeks or nose or forehead and while Brian pretended to be annoyed, it felt like a natural progression. Roger was also a very sexually promiscuous person, not discriminating between whom he got his dick wet with. While Brian was more subdued, as the band’s following grew, he had increasingly more and more encounters with beautiful women. Thus it came to a surprise to him as well, when he pulled Roger away from a gorgeous, long legged brunette, one drunken night. Brian put his arms around his friend, who stiffened in surprise but quickly melted into his colleague, and shot his most charming smile at the one across. “I see you’ve yet to meet the most charming member of the band.” The girl blushed and giggled but Brian’s focus was already directed towards the blonde who looked up at Brian with a slight frown decorating his handsome features. “Dude you’re a real cock-block, currently”, he whispered. Brian just tightened his hold and pulled his friend towards him. “Come with me.” he half-asked, half-demanded in a low pitch, leaning into his friend. He pulled back and saw Roger breathing out a shaky sigh, gulped audibly and nodded his consent almost imperceptibly.

He pulled a willing Roger into a dimly lit corner of a mostly deserted hallway and attacked his lips. Pressing him into the wall and pushing his leg between Roger’s. The younger replied with just as much fervour forcing his tongue between Brian’s lips. The kiss was messy and all teeth, but to Brian it was everything in that particular moment, as he heard nothing, saw nothing and felt nothing but Roger and that searing hot intensity that threatened to consume his body. He ground his leg into Rogers crotch and started mouthing down his neck. Roger moaned a quiet little sound which made Brian grin a little cockily, and suck right below Rogers ear. The groan that followed that went straight to his groin and he couldn’t help but buck up into his friend. “Fuck!” Roger swore, which made Brian look down into his friends’ eyes. This little moment made Brian pause. His opposite had a pink flush high on his cheeks, sparkling blue eyes and a plump, reddish-pink lip sucked in between his teeth. “Rog –.” he heard himself say, which seemed to shake Roger out of his trance. After studying his face for a few moments and likewise being examined by the shorter man, Rogers smile turned cocky. “Well aren’t you gonna do something about this?” He asked and pointed down, in between them, as if to avoid any misunderstandings and ground against Brian to further bring home his point. Brian collapsed above his friend, just keeping from crushing Roger by placing his arms above the drummer’s head and said precisely the words that flitted through his mind upon hearing his friend. “God, I want to fuck you!” He admitted and knew he would later blame it on the two beers he had had.

He regretted ushering out the words as soon as he said it although he couldn’t bring himself to regret the emotion behind them. Roger tensed up beneath him. After a few seconds, he felt the other’s hand tentatively push against his shoulder and moved back to give the other space, words of apology already on his tongue. “Are you sure?” Roger questioned surprisingly serious and looked him dead in the eye. “Yes.” Brian breathed almost inaudible. Roger examined him for a few moments and then, almost contemplatively, declared: “Well, we can’t do it here, can we? Follow me.” And he intertwined his own hands with Brian’s pulled him away.

The ride back consisted of Roger sitting in Brian’s lap and heavily grinding down on the guitarist, while they both did their best to render the other into varying states of undress, just to have to sloppily refashion their clothes to preserve some sense of decency upon arrival to Roger’s apartment complex. They entered the elevator with two other strangers, which was why Roger cheekily repositioned himself in front of Brian. Brian in turn, unbeknownst to the other passengers, gripped Rogers hips and pulled him against his longer form and started caressing the shorter one’s sides and nuzzled his hair slightly. Roger smelled faintly of alcohol and cigarettes, just as he was supposed to, but beneath that lay a smell, faint, but so undeniably Roger, something that was comfortingly familiar, he had unconsciously smelled almost every day throughout the years spent together.

Upon taking in this impression of his scent, something strange happened to Brian. He felt his nerves melting away, while simultaneously a heavy feeling settled deep in his core. A sense of foreboding that filled him with anxiousness but not necessarily with dread. It was the overwhelming certainty that if he continued this would mean something. And the knowledge overcame him, that would remember this very moment with perfect clarity. Roger must have sensed something in his change of mood because he turned around in Brian’s embrace and turned his face up to look his friend straight in the face, no walls up to guard his feeling from the other and expecting absolute honesty in turn. HE either didn’t care that the other passengers might recognize him, or maybe they had left the elevator already – it was of little consequence – Brian’s attention was homed in on his friend. Roger looked at him contemplatively as if to study his face in this very moment, both conscious in this moment of decision. “Bri…” Roger started softly and opened his mouth as if to say more but was interrupted by the ping of the elevator signalling the arrival to their floor.

They moved to Roger’s room in a unanimous decision, that was never spoken aloud, this tension hanging between them, walking side by side and not quite touching the other. It should have been strange but it simply wasn’t. Roger fumbled with the keys slightly, opened the door, let Brian step through and closed it. He remained standing with his back to Brian for a few short seconds, then as if he had come to some conclusion turned around and asked “You sure, about this, Bri? This feels…” he searched for the correct articulation “Somehow…” He paused. “Just promise me, we won’t change. Our friendship Rog… It means everything to me!” Brian intercepted, almost panicked for a second. Roger softened instantly and responded by cupping the taller one’s face, pressing a close-mouthed kiss on his lips and thus silencing him. “Nothing’s gonna change, Bri.” He said reassuringly, instantly calming Brian. “This isn’t anything big. We’re still us. I want this.” He stopped “Been thinking about this for quite some time actually” He winked cheekily, which was probably meant to hide the slight pink hue starting to creep into his features. Roger looked so like himself this moment, the tough, happy-go-lucky attitude an attempt at hiding his vulnerability that Brian felt an overwhelming sense of affection for the younger which made him place a sweet kiss onto Roger’s lips. And then another one. And another one. This one though, quickly morphed from sweet to passionate as Roger responded with a kind of hunger, that in turn ignited a passion in Brian as well.

Things moved sort of quickly after that Brian moved backwards until his calves hit the bed unto which he dropped and pulled the shorter man with. Roger proceeded to straddle his thighs and placed a string of opened mouthed kisses along his neck and down his chest, which he miraculously and very cleverly exposed in stride. Roger truly showed Brian, what his reputation was worth, when he managed to render Brian speechless and moaning in a state of undress without Brian realizing.  
Brian did notice the cool breeze across his torso though, which was only amplified by Roger sucking wet hickeys on his chest and stomach. His skin pimpled in goose-bumps and he decided to impart some of his own style onto their encounter. He flipped them around and positioned himself in between his friend’s thighs and encouraged Roger to shed his clothes with cleverly placed kisses and licks. Soon the both of them were naked and breathless, but Brian was stumped as to how to proceed. He could only draw from past experiences with girls but knew from lewd conversations between Freddie and Roger that a lot more preparation was involved in an encounter between two men.

He paused and fumbled for words trying to convey his thoughts: “Rog, can you… You know. Who will…” Roger frowned at Brian’s wild hand gestures which replaced his kissing, clearly bothered by Brian’s little interlude to their steamy make-out session but then his frown turned cheeky. “My, my, Bri. Are you offering to bottom? And there I was assuming I was being treated well this night. But it is true Miss May, you would make a beautiful pillow princess.” He pulled Brian’s locks playfully. Brian, slightly annoyed by Roger making fun of his inexperience, smacked Rogers hand away, grabbed his wrists and flipped the shorter man on his stomach. He ground his hard length against Rogers ass, his precum making the slide easier but still catching slightly at Rogers hole and positively growled into his ear. Roger’s cheek vanished instantaneously, and he muffled his moan in his sheets. He lifted his face to Brian’s and simply dictated: “Left nightstand, top drawer. Grab the lube, now.” Brian obeyed and Roger instructed him to slick up his finger and to “just do it”. 

Brian first teased Rogers hole and then sank in knuckle deep. The sensation of Roger’s tight wet heat made him shudder and he locked eyes with his friend, which shook him to the core. Roger’s face was first screwed in utter concentration and then slacked into an expression of extasy when Brian tentatively pumped his long, nimble fingers. The drag of his index was smooth and soon Roger started softly moaning, indicating his adjustment to the intrusion. When Brian moved his first finger to add a second Roger’s eyes flew open and a loud, high pitched whimper escaped him. “There, right there!” He exclaimed. “Bri. Do that again” Roger sounded breathless and needy and Brian could not withstand.

He tried to establish a tentative rhythm with two fingers, when Roger started rocking back against him, fucking himself against the guitarist’s hand. “Rog!” Brian growled, miffed that his friend was breaking his concentration at meticulously teasing his bed-partner. “Keep still” He enforced his demand by pinning the younger down by the hips and slightly roughly inserting a third finger. “Bri.” Roger whined so deliciously needy, Brian almost forgot his own straining erection. “Keep doing that and – aah... There is not going to be much fucking to- today” The lower one stuttered. Brian pumped a few more times and then pulled away to slick up his dick. He stroked himself and the positioned himself at Roger’s hole. Roger who was turned away from him shifted slightly to look his friend in the eye. “Are you sure, Rog?” Although Roger looked utterly and gloriously debauched already he managed a snort and responded: “You were already palm-deep inside me, I think now would be the worst time to have a change of heart.” But when Brian proceeded to look for clues of consent Roger pushed his torso up to kiss Brian sloppily and from a weird, twisted angle. “I want you Bri, now. Please go ahead and do it.”

That confirmation was all Brian needed and he nudged himself forward and slowly pushed himself in to the hilt. The first push was always something special, Brian reckoned, but with his long-time friend – Roger – who although tensing up a little seemed to implicitly trust Brian with his body and soul even in this very vulnerable position, a new understanding of the meaning of true intimacy occurred to Brian. He bent down to kiss his friend and sucked and nibbled across his shoulder blades. He nuzzled into his friend’s hair, who let out a shaky sigh and demanded Brian moved. The taller complied and slowly but surely built a leisure rhythm. Roger, though, soon became impatient and started rocking back against the taller one. In retrospect, Brian would’ve liked to say that the affair was expertly drawn-out, as he was used to his sex being, but the act quickly devolved into base rocking without rhyme and reason and finished pretty quickly with Roger shouting his release into the pillows and Brian following mere seconds later. He collapsed atop his friend and relished the scent of sex and sweat in the air while trying to normalize his heart-beat.

“Uh, Bri?” Roger mumbled “You’re heavy” He pushed up slightly in an attempt to roll the taller man down the side. Brian acquiesced and pulled out and away and dropped his weight down his side, immediately missing Rogers comforting heat. They both lay there side by side and stared at the ceiling. Brian didn’t know what to say or how to behave. He had just fucked his best friend for Christ’s sake. What does one say in such a moment after a life-time of being utterly convinced of one’s own heterosexuality. Brian searched for words, while Roger was uncharacteristically silent. Just as he was about to say something stupid, funny or worse sappy he felt Roger’s shorter but broader hand creep into his. The blonde intertwined their hands and so they just lay there, enjoying the silence that was only interrupted by both of their breaths. In that moment he knew it would be okay. This was Roger after all, and he was his best friend.

At some point Roger shifted to his side and turned towards Brian with a broad smile. “You know, I thought that was pretty spectacular.” He declared. “You’re not a bad fuck for a quasi-virgin!” Brian groaned and smacked his friend. “Shuddup Rog. You haven’t done this a lot either.” He admonished a short silence followed. “Never, actually.” Roger admitted. “I was never on the receiving end, if you catch my drift.” He didn’t meet Brian’s eye and as if to change the subject, crawled towards the end of the bed and carefully stepped down. “As much as I enjoy lying next to you with your sperm running out of me...” He pulled a slight grimace, while Brian chocked on his breath. “I want to shower. Help yourself to anything.” He cheekily struck a silly pose and strutted to the bathroom. Brian sighed a loud sigh. What had he gotten himself into?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

Brian must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing he remembered were puffs of breath on his collarbone and a distinct coolness on his left that contrasted with his right, that felt swelteringly hot in comparison. He shivered and opened his eyes and impressions of the last night hit him like a train. He saw tufts of hair that belonged to Roger, whom he was hugging for warmth, because his friend was curled up in what with what looked like at least two duvets. The sight would have been endearing, if Brian’s heart-rate didn’t spike in anxiety. What the fuck had his beer-pissed brain come up with. This was his best friend for fuck’s sake. A person he had known for far too long and who was far too integral to his fucking life to fuck their fucking friendship up with a … fuck. Brian cursed under his breath and then remembered his partner and prayed he didn’t wake him. When after a few moments, still no other sound except Roger’s slight snoring was audible, Brian relaxed his body limb by limb. He needed a fucking plan. What to do in such a fucked up situation. So, Brian reacted as he would have after a shameful one-night stand and quickly but quietly got up, gathered his shit and left the situation behind.

Band practice the following day was awkward. Roger behaved as usual, except maybe a slight bit more subdued. His eyes were covered in shades due to his “raging, hangover induced, head-ache”. God, that man could be such a poet about the most banal stuff sometimes. But Roger played well, never missing a beat as per usual. Brian was a different story, he was tense, ill-prepared and in an attempt to be very precise in his timing started his riffs too soon a few times. “Brian, dear you should really get laid more, you sound awfully strung-up about something.” Freddie exclaimed during their break, after they stepped out in the sweltering summer heat. Brian scoffed and met nobody’s eyes, while Deaky and Roger snickered. “It’s true though, Bri. You need to get your dick wet. I could offer…” Roger sauntered over seductively and wiggled his eyebrows. Brian’s jaw fell slack at Roger’s casual mentioning of their encounter from two nights before. He could hear Freddie in the background almost doubling over with laughter and exclaiming something lewd about them being too straight for their own good, while all Brian could do was sent a warning glare towards the blonde, who in turn shrugged it off. Brian tried to desperately calm his racing heart. How could Roger be so bloody nonchalant about this?

Roger turned around and pulled his pullover over his head, a choice of clothing that probably resulted from him not having done the laundry in quite some time, when Brian heard the laughter subsiding immediately. He turned around to give his friend some sense of privacy and tried to will the persistent flush on his cheeks away. “Roger!” Freddie exclaimed loudly. “Maybe you do have more balls than I gave you credit for!” He whistled loudly. Brian turned in time with Roger, who still had his pullover halfway around his arms and an adorable frown decorating his pretty features. “Turn around darling!” Freddie sing-sanged and when his friend did, Brian choked on his breath. Roger’s back was littered with fading purple marks, all of which were his doing. “Wha- what is it, Fred?” Roger twisted around to see the damage but failed, which caused him to try to catch his reflection in a window. He moved closer and closer, eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to see…   
His already big, blue eyes widened comically and he spun around quickly to shoot an indecipherable look at Brian, his face was flushed in an angry pink colour and his mouth pulled tight.

Freddie, as was characteristic to him, turned to Roger and mockingly tapped his lips with his index finger. “So either you convinced a bird to peg you… OR – “ He paused for effect ”You had sex with a man!” The four of them were tense and silent for very different reasons. John mumbled a “What even is pegging?” Roger looked from Brian to Freddie and back to Brian. Brian was glad, Freddie didn’t even consider him, because his own clothing suddenly felt very suffocating and he was positive his face closely resembled a tomato. This seemed to amuse Roger for some reason because his whole posture changed, and he assumed a self-assured, laid-back stance, that would have fooled Brian if not for the fact that Roger was his closest friend. He nonchalantly shrugged and declared “Well, who hasn’t dabbled, am I right Bri?” Freddie’s reaction was hilarious. “What you, too?” His attention focused on Brian for a second but then he waved him off “Na, you are bloody kidding! But, Rog, we’ve gotta talk boys now. What do you think of hitting the clubs tonight…” He bodily pulled Roger back into the studio. Brian wasn’t too sure whether he should be glad or offended that Freddie – self declared master of the GAYDAR – considered him too straight to be gay, he just stared after the other two. John considered him with a thoughtful look of contemplation. ‘damn he is too perceptive for his own good’ Brian thought and suggested they rejoin the other two to continue with their practicing to avoid John’s questioning gaze.

Brian felt terribly guilty for the remainder of the day. He and Roger had avoided each other the whole day and the rest of the band had taken notice. Freddie, assuming the awkwardness stemming from Brian’s perceived reservations regarding Roger’s sex life, had decided to force the band to go out partying together for the evening. Brian, surprising everyone including himself, readily agreed, probably because he wanted badly to drown out his thoughts. The evening turned out to be not what he had imagined though, because as soon as they entered, Roger had started shamelessly flirting with everything on two legs with boobs and as Brian downed more and more gin, his thoughts didn’t stray from the pretty blonde currently dancing with a gorgeous, petite woman. When it came to the point, where Freddie had addressed him three times and even snapped his fingers in front of his nose to attract Brian’s attention, Brian realized he and Roger could not leave it at that. He ignored Freddie’s affronted exclamation when he stood up without explaining his intentions and strode over to Roger, who by now had sat down on a couch with a girl in every arm. He swallowed down the harsh lump in his throat and continued on his path. “Roger” he declared softly. Blue eyes focussed on him. “Crystal, Delilah, this is Brian. Bri these are...” Roger introduced with fake courteousness. Brian recognized this as one of Roger’s behaviours, when hurt and wanting the other person to work for his forgiveness. But tonight, Brian didn’t have the patience for his best friend’s childish behaviour and simply asked to talk to his friend in private. Roger leaned back and one of the girls - Delilah, maybe – ran her fingers along the seam of Rogers dress shirt. “Don’t go, Roggie.” She half-moaned. Somehow, this rubbed Brian the wrong way, he didn’t know why, but he saw red. And then, this pathetic excuse for a pet-name. “Come on now, Roger, I don’t have time for this.” He pinched his nose then looked the man straight in the eye. “Please, Rog.” The blonde huffed and excused himself by kissing both girls on the lips for which Brian had turn away. Then, Roger shouldered past him and he could do nothing but follow.

Roger turned around a little ball of fury the second they had left any unwanted onlookers behind and pushed Brian against the wall. “You have some balls, coming here and demanding my attention! After what you’ve done!” Brian smacked the smaller one’s hand away “And what exactly have I done wrong?” “You fucking left me and I didn’t know that we -. I mean, I thought I had just dreamt this up, Bri! You had the fucking guts to leave me in the dark for almost two whole days! Were you even going to bloody tell me that we fucked, if Freddie didn’t discover it today? Bloody fuckin’ hell, Bri!”  
Brian was speechless “I didn’t even fucking know you didn’t remember. You seemed quite conscious that night…” He trailed off, and even though Roger didn’t seem that impressed, he knew he had his friend in his pocket with his argument. “Listen, I am sorry I panicked. I’ve never slept with… And anyway you are my best friend. I thought I had royally screwed up. Tell me we’re still that, Rog. Come on Rog, please, tell me how I can make it up to you.” He could practically see Roger crack, but Brian had to admit that he hadn’t expected Roger to be so stubborn. “Is that all?” Roger snapped. “Well then sure, we’re still friends. I forgive you. Now I want to go back Delilah and Christina.” He declared and turned to move. Brian couldn’t have that happen though, so he grabbed him by the wrist and spun the blonde back around and leaned in. “Her name was Crystal.” And then he kissed Roger. Slowly, first but then more passionate, when Roger didn’t move or complain. He bit Roger’s lower lip slightly and licked into the smaller man’s mouth, when Roger gasped. He didn’t notice and Roger likely didn’t either when they moved from Brian pulling Roger into him to Roger pushing in and up to Brian. Roger grabbed Brian’s lapels and pulled him against his lips, their teeth clashing and noses being in each other’s way and when he pulled back just slightly, such that Brian could still feel his friend’s hot breath on his sensitized, wet lips. “Make it up to me. Today I will remember for sure.” And Brian made sure to make good on his promise.

The next morning Brian was alone and didn’t know how to feel about. What did this mean? Did Roger what they’d done? Did he regret it? Rogers flushed face, eyes screwed shut and jaw slack flashed in his mind. He remembered how phenomenal it felt to be with someone whom you trusted whole heartedly, he studied himself in the mirror, not once had he considered whether what he was doing looked right or how he performed. He flushed pink as he thought about Roger’s appreciative gaze travelling down his chest before licking his lips in an unconscious motion and tugging down his trousers. Or all the little moans and whimpers Roger had made that had escalated into very distinct, wordless shouts of pleasure. Roger sure as hell wasn’t a quiet lay. Or how his friend had looked coming down from ecstasy, how he had lit a cigarette at the window and the moon had illuminated his silhouette, his strong arms and legs trained from years of playing the drums, the line of his waist and – gloriously – his butt. To Brian, he had looked like perfection but never had he wasted a second to thinking about how his physique with his long, lanky build with almost concave, shapeless stomach and undefined arms compared.

In this moment he just appreciated the beauty that was his friend. When he remembered how Roger had turned and smiled at him with this beautiful smile and his doe eyes crinkling at the edges and jumped on the bed and placed a small peck on Brian’s lips, Brian knew he wouldn’t regret this. He turned away from his mirror image and shrugged into his clothes and made his way to the small kitchen he owned. He found a lukewarm cup of tea on the counter with a little note stuck below and sipped on the drink, which was just the way liked it, if a little cold. He quietly smiled to himself and to took the note ‘Inspiration struck. In the studio. Remember, we have it booked from 9’o’clock today. Rog’ it said in Rogers recognizable, sad excuse for penmanship. Brian’s gaze whipped to the clock. He cursed under his breath and sped to his room to assemble everything he’d need for today’s session. The day went well and Brian was glad to note that Roger was back to his own playful self.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse my depiction of a slightly manipulative Brian. I looove Brian, but I just really felt that at this point he doesn't understand what all of this means to either of them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little interlude from Roger's perspective to provide context for the next chapter in Brian's pov.

Late November 1973

Roger had just come home from a particularly boring night out. He never admitted it in front of his friends but if one had as many short-term liaisons, one was bound to have quite a few rather bad encounters. The one today – a gorgeously long legged, athletic looking girl – had spend their time in bed making sure she looked good from every angle and struck almost comical poses. He sighed. Sometimes he wondered what he was doing. Sometimes he wanted to stop. He used to relish in that connection he formed during sex, but lately these instances became very rare. The people that drooled all over him nowadays were all very aware that he was an up and coming artist. Today, for instance, he wasn’t even sure the girl knew anything about him apart from the fact that he was the drummer of Queen. At some point during the night he had tried talking to her about his music more deeply and she had looked positively bored and suggested they went home to hers. He shrugged off his jacket and kicked his shoes somewhere when he saw a band of light filter through the slit below the door to his living-room-kitchen area. 

He opened it hesitantly and saw the back of his friend, who was handling the teapot that Roger had bought specifically because Brian didn’t drink coffee. He cleared his throat loudly and Brian turned around with a blinding and slightly manic smile. “Rog! I was waiting for you exactly!” I have to show you something and I need to see how high you can go on this one bit.” He seemed too distracted to even put his teabag into his cup and flew to his guitar on the ground and the small pile of notes. “Brian, mate. I am not bloody sure, whether we are already at the stage in our friendship where you can simply enter my apartment and take over my kitchen.” He said mock serious. ‘Damn it. I should have really thought twice before giving him the spare key.’ Brian looked up at his friend with a slow blink and a frown of not-understanding etched into his gorgeous features. His hair was mussed and he looked so beautifully innocent in that moment that Roger just chuckled and sat down next to his friend and leaned against him. “Lemme hear.” He mumbled into Brian’s bony shoulder.

This, Brian understood, and the fierce determination returned back into his eyes. He started strumming his acoustic guitar and directed Roger where to sing what and how. It was a beautiful piece that relied on a few harmonies, which they had just recently tried out and all really liked. Needless to say, it was more important than ever to get the music right to get the maximum out of each their vocal ranges. “How do you imagine the rest of the song, Bri? What are the main lyrics” Roger asked quietly. They had tweaked his part of the background vocals around sufficiently to where Brian seemed to be happy. He scribbled, crossed out and overwrote the lyric currently and hadn’t interacted with his friend for quite some time. Roger was starting to feel slightly sleepy. It must have almost been 4 am. Brian turned a bit, hesitated and finally turned fully towards his friend. Brian’s eyes were bright enough to overpower the dark smudges underneath them that indicated restless nights and driven days. “It’s… not even finished yet and I don’t want to explain what it means to me… and to you.” He finished quietly with his characteristic seriousness and honesty. Roger just continued to look at him imploringly. “You cannot have had me sing this the whole night and then not play this for me! Also, the song features a she. How is this about me?” He admonished. Brian looked at him with a deadpan look: “And how would it look if Queen published a song about a boy in this light.” He huffed a fine.

He started strumming but then stopped. “This first part is still not decided yet.” He flushed and was silent. Roger let him be even though he knew this was only a half-truth. Brian was a bad liar. Brian picked the 5 pence piece up again and started with the first line of the verse: “Who knows who she'll make me / As I lie in her cocoon /…” It was beautiful. “You can’t call it something stupid and Brian-y, you should call it … Stormtrooper in Stilettoes or something ridiculous like that…” Roger mumbled into Brian’s shoulder and finally let his eyes close.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about Tenement Funster

January 1973

“Roger, no this song is weak. This song screams misunderstood teenager. We are not kids anymore. How are people supposed to take us seriously if we don’t even do it ourselves?” Freddie was all up in Roger’s face. “We play all your naïve, ridiculously optimistic songs as well, even though we are a bloody rock-band!” Roger spat with as much derision as he could muster defending his song about youth and rebellion and freedom of choice. “Yeah that is because I am a lyrical genius, who has talent to sneak the meaning in between the lines of the poems I create!” Freddie cockily supplied. Roger saw red and pushed the lead vocalist pack a few paces. Freddie recuperated quickly and pulled on Roger’s open shirt. “I won’t sing it.” He declared with a finality in his expression, when Brian bodily stepped in between his two fighting band mates and pushed them apart.

“I think it is pretty good.” He said quietly. “It is clearly how Roger feels and I have to say I think we can all agree that it not easy to confront one’s parents with one’s own dreams and ideas. I can relate to his song.” Brian was very quiet when he explained his reasoning. It was very clear to everyone in the room that especially Brian and his parents had a particular hard time with Brian’s choices regarding his career, lately. Freddie calmed down in response to Brian opening up but still muttered an obstinate “But I still won’t sing it. My hair is certainly not a disgrace and the rest is ridiculous as well.” “Fine!” Roger threw up his hands “I will sing it then, if it is below your standards, Mr. Mercury.” He produced a mock curtsey. “Let us leave, Bri. The queen is to good for the peasants.” He pulled on Brian’s hand.

Roger didn’t let his friend’s hand go until they arrived at Brian’s apartment and wordlessly approached Brian’s extensive liquor cabinet. He poured them both something strong and downed his in two large gulps. Brian slowly sipped on his own drink and watched him over the rim of his glass. Roger suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands and started shifting. He felt his face grow hot and cursed his fair skin internally. “I suppose this today was a bit childish…” “Strip” Brian demanded suddenly, and Roger sucked in a sharp breath. Brian leaned back against his table and looked at Roger without blinking. “Strip.” He repeated calmly and added: “I want to see how far down that blush goes.” Roger grew half-hard at Brian’s low pitch and intense gaze. He shakily fumbled with his buttons but grew more confident as Brian’s unwavering, appreciative gaze followed his hands very closely. He saw Brian’s eyes darken and pupils dilate slightly once had managed to discard his shirt and trailed his hands down his hard stomach towards his trousers to open the buttons. “Turn around.” Brian stopped him and when Roger looked at him questioningly, supplied a cryptic: “This is why we are here, right?”.

Brian set down his glass deliberately and moved towards Roger while loosening his messily knotted tie in mid-stride. Roger felt heat pool low when he saw Brian’s long, slender fingers and his graceful stride and hastened to turn around before his friend approached him. Roger had developed quite a fixation on his friend’s fingers. They were very… nimble, his brain supplied helpfully. Roger blushed an even deeper shade of red. He felt Brian pushing him slightly towards the countertop. He aligned his long body with Rogers and whispered to him. “See, even your cute little ears are red.” The puffs of cool air hit his sensitive, hot ear and Roger shuddered against Brian, which made him very aware of his friend’s own hardness that was nestled between his cheeks. Brian kissed and sucked down Roger’s neck and back just the way Roger liked it. He felt Brian’s long fingers dip underneath Roger’s waist band and pull free his cock. He stroked Roger languidly. ‘Damn he got quite good at that.’ Roger’s brain supplied numbly. He moaned quite loudly as Brian twisted his hands just right and felt Brian’s answering groan over the rush of his pulse in his ears. Brian had started bucking up against Roger deliciously and stopped just to push down his trousers and pants down to mid-thigh. Roger spread his legs in anticipation and felt Brian rub the head of his cock against his entrance. He had to suck in a stabilizing breath ‘He surely didn’t mean to just go without preparation’ His trust in Brian fought with his anxiety. They had done this a few times but as far as he knew Brian’s other experiences stemmed from girls, who were just different… “Shh.” Brian soothed him, intrinsically in tune with Rogers moods and then pushed the first digit in in one go while simultaneously smirking against the smaller one’s shoulders. “We just don’t have lube.” Roger expelled a very undignified squeak and wanted to protest but Brian thumbed the head of his cock to add more slickness and pushed in a second finger without much time to adjust. Roger skirted just on the edge of pain and pleasure as Brian continued to stroke his cock slowly and scissor open his hole at a faster rate than usually. Roger was dimly aware that his exclamations resembled strings of vowels more than words, but couldn’t help himself and probably didn’t care.

Brian pulled away and Roger whimpered at the loss of contact. “Turn around.” Brian demanded a little breathy himself. Roger faced gorgeous, gorgeous Brian with his lower lip pulled in between his teeth in concentration, brows furrowed slightly. Roger pushed himself on top of the counter and locked his legs around Brian’s waist and pulled him close. He kissed him deeply and thoroughly, pulling on Brian’s locks and bringing him impossibly closer. Brian broke the kiss as their lengths aligned perfectly and Roger had unconsciously ground himself against Brian for friction and moaned into Rogers mouth. “Brian, now!” Roger whined needily, not even caring about Brian’s little smirk in response. Roger felt himself being pulled towards the edge of the counter and pushed back slightly. Brian positioned himself against his friend and followed Roger’s every move as he entered. Roger felt incredibly sexy and present, the feeling was exhilarating. He didn’t even feel the stretch as Brian bottomed-out. Brian looked slack-jawed and still stared at him with half-lidded eyes as if to memorize this moment precisely. 

And then. Brian began to move. Roger threw his head back and let out an uninhibited long groan. He used his arms propped up behind him as leverage to rock back against Brian. Brian picked Roger up by his waist and guided him. Everyone of Brian’s thrusts was expertly aimed and reduced Roger quickly into a sobbing, sweaty mess. Brian leaned down and managed to connect them in a heated, artless kiss that transmitted the rocking movement as well. Roger threw his arm around Brian’s neck and surged up. Roger felt Brian everywhere. Everything was just too much and very intense. His friend trailed his long hands up his calves and gripped Roger’s thighs hard. Roger didn’t know why this ticked him of, but he came in hot long spurts across both of their chests. He felt himself clenching down hard on Brian who growled and pulled out, which Roger appreciated very much as he felt over sensitized. He saw Brian towering over him stroking his dick quickly. He closed his eyes and came, while Roger watched him closely. Roger thought Brian looked very precious in this moment. Even he’d rarely seen his friend like this – free and uninhibited. He felt very privileged to be part of this moment.

When Brian came down he seemed almost shy. These times after their encounters always amused Roger. It just seemed to him as if Brian only realized what he had done, after his blood returned to his brain and all social conventions and restrictions were back in his consciousness. Which is why Roger did his best to distract Brian from what he thought was maybe morally a little bit wrong. Because really, they were having just such a good time together and could be so unguarded with one another. Roger rarely didn’t feel the need to protect himself but with his best friend, these moments were just perfect. “Mate, I am so hungry now!” Roger exclaimed and lazily stretched himself out on Brian’s counter top. “Let us eat!” Brian agreed but then pulled a face. “Rog, I am not so sure… We might not want to eat here, do we? This is filthy.” Roger laughed at that hard. “Don’t worry mate, I’ll help you clean that up.” He jumped down the counter-top and grimaced “Bloody hell, I’m gonna feel that tomorrow…” Brian looked very guilty, so Roger put on the shirt he had picked up – Brian’s, he noticed – and went over to his friend and pecked him on the lips. “It’s fine, really. Don’t you worry, Bri.” He looked up in his friend’s face “It is a good burn, really.” They left for a cheap fast food restaurant after and enjoyed their time together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3

Their thing continued as a very irregular thing, when on tour Roger would usually pick up a bird or two flirt their pants of, but late at night, when drunk and in need of caring or right after a show high on adrenaline, Brian got to see a very unguarded and free side of Roger’s. He cherished those moments greatly. During the recordings of their albums the band fought tooth and nail for each decision which lead to more than a few times of one pulling the other away and literally screwing their frustration away. Other times, Brian would storm into Roger’s apartment in the middle of the night with a manic sort of intensity in when inspiration had struck and he needed Roger’s opinion or help in fine-tuning the lyrics. These nights would usually turn into Roger and Brian falling asleep on the couch in a heap of notes and scribbles. These mornings Brian liked best. Watching Roger wake up, bright-eyed and honest he would skirt around in one of Brian’s old, oversized shirts while trying and failing to prepare breakfast that consisted of more than a good cup of tea. The did their routine well, no one suspected anything. Some of Brian’s best writing was inspired by their crazy nights together. The both thrived off of these private moments, where they could be just themselves and live their passion for music without anyone not understanding the feeling or judging them for it.

March 1974

Brian didn’t notice when exactly it all deteriorated but certainly him meeting the cute philosophy student Chrissie was the catalyst.

They had just come back from their sheer heart attack tour, feeling like a Rockstar for the very first time, when the band decided to attend a concert of an unknown band in a small university bar, to which a friend of Freddie’s had invited them to. Brian saw the cute small girl on his way to the bathroom, when he was called out by one of the guys she was with. “Nice hairdo, man!” The guy snickered obviously not meaning what he said in a particularly nice way. Brian tried to ignore the guy, he liked his hair, and tried not to give into the urge to subconsciously fluff up his locks to sit just right. “Didn’t know, that that freakshow band – what’re they called again?” “Queen” Someone supplied helpfully “Right – that these freaks have faggot fans outside of Japan that try to emulate them.” Brian knew it was better not to, but he just could no longer ignore what was said about his band, about himself and he certainly couldn’t ignore the slur the dude had spit out towards queer people. He stopped and deliberately slowly turned around and flashed the group his most blinding smile. “Shut up Henry, that was really rude.” He saw the cute girl shush his friend, mortified. He shot her a real smile “I’ll have you know, that - even though your nice choice of words – emulate – that is a really complicated verb, congratulations – Queen is neither a freakshow band, nor are their fans faggots. If you are too simple minded to understand the concept of a flamboyant showman, a behaviour that doesn’t necessarily have to translate into real-life, then I cannot help you.” He let his gaze travel down the offender lazily and then pulled up his eyes again. “Although it is not really surprising that you wouldn’t understand the meaning of letting all your inhibitions drop and putting yourself out there, you look like a stuck-up, staid pal that will always be complacent with a mediocre job that has mediocre pay…” He floundered. This was not his best come back and just as he was about to leave the scene Roger bound up to him, glittery eyed and clearly drunk. “Brian Harold May!” He exclaimed from the tops of his lungs “I have been looking for you all night. Deaky’s just left and I don’t really feel like going to search for Fred. Not sure what I’d find…” Roger joined them. “Huh? Who are these boring looking people? I want to have fuuuuun!” And then he danced away, obviously not aware just how silly he looked, bumped into a pretty girl and twirled her around. Brian tried not to linger on the sight of his friend kissing the girl and turned his focus back on the group and shot the pretty girl another smile. “I’ll excuse myself” and left.

He went into the bathroom and stared into the mirror ‘What exactly am I doing here.’ The sight of Roger kissing that girl hadn’t left him. He was more than aware of the fact, that he and Roger weren’t exclusive, but it didn’t fill him with much joy to see his lover share intimacy with somebody else in front of him. Usually, they didn’t flaunt others, who kept their attention for a few seconds, in front of each other. Brian assumed that was because they always knew deep down that these were only fleeting subjects of interest and they always came back to one another. With that knowledge, Brian was fine with Roger also spending some of his attention on somebody else for a given time. But as Brian looked into the mirror it occurred to him that maybe at some point Roger would find someone and finally do fall in love and actually care. Brian was terrified of being left behind, it was a feeling he had always felt somewhere deep down. He felt it when the kids in school were always distantly polite because of his intellect and enthusiasm for sciences or when, in his late teen years, the other boys snickered behind his back while he was being overly passionate about music. Or how when he played until he bloodied his hands, his friends and family always expressed complete and utter lack of understanding and few even went as far as belittling him for his ‘childish’ aspirations.

All that had really only changed with meeting his chosen family – well, through meeting Roger, to be precise. Although he was certain Roger considered him a little eccentric, they all still shared an understanding of the state one got into when inspiration struck, and that burning drive wouldn’t leave until the song was finished. Some of the band just valued sleep more than others. He sighed. On the path he was currently on he would inevitably continue with this lifestyle and not tire of it while Roger would find another someone he wanted or knocked up by accident. He needed a drink. A strong one at that. Brian straightened his posture and faced the outside world.

The cute girl appeared next to him at the bar a few minutes later. She fidgeted and Brian didn’t know whether he had had enough alcohol yet to speak to another person. “Uhm. I just – I just wanted to say that I am really sorry. Henry is a dick sometimes, I – “, she broke off again but then seemed to gather some courage: “Let me make it up to you! Can I buy you a drink? Please?” She trailed of. Brian chuckled finding her behaviour slightly endearing and nodded. She bought them both some ridiculous pink, sickeningly sweet drink that was supposed to taste of strawberries after he agreed to anything she was having. He immediately regretted not asserting himself, Roger would have scoffed at that. “So, what is your name, anyway?” He asked shooting her his most winning smile in an attempt to be flirtatious. “I am Christine, my friends call me Chrissie!” She smiled an honest smile and extended a hand for an awkward handshake. “And tell me, what do you study?” he enquired further. She blushed “currently psychology, but I am not really content with how it’s going.” And smiled apologetically. “So Brian, she straightened her shoulders and looked him dead in the eye “What do you do when you don’t make music?” He was surprised that she had picked up on his name. “Your friend… “ she responded sounding slightly distasteful, as if she had read his thoughts. “Are you a fan of the band?” He asked inquisitively. She negated with a blush high on her cheeks. He chuckled “Well at least you are honest.” He liked that about her.

“I have a degree in astrophysics.” He explained after pulling her out of the overcrowded bar. He pointed out a few constellations, talking more to himself than to anyone else. Oh, how he had missed this. In the light of the stars he forgot the cold and his dark thoughts. After noticing that Christine hadn’t responded in quite some time, he turned around to find her staring at him. She surprised him “Is this the moment where you kiss me?” she asked him almost innocently. He was a bit taken aback but supposed he understood how his behaviour may have implied that to another person. He _had_ taken her into a more secluded place and shown her the stars. He internally shrugged and leaned down to brush his lips against hers. Her lips were soft and plush. He found himself quite enjoying the kiss. She broke it by pulling back and grinning very adorably. “I have to leave.” She explained apologetically, so he intervened “But I would like to meet you again.” He pulled out a little piece of paper and the pen, he obligatorily carried on his person at all times, and scribbled down an address of a little coffeeshop in central London. “This coffeeshop has a beautiful view of the city. I’d like to invite you to have brunch. Do you have any plans Sunday, say at 10 ‘o’clock-ish?” She pecked him on the lips once more and said “Will be there. See ya.”, turned and left.

Their story was one of a slow falling in love but Brian noticed, that he tended to spend more time with her in situations of stress and frustration within the band. He could remove himself from the others because she really had very little to do with them. He found that the angry passionate energy that was between Roger and him riled him up more than soothed him. Although the product of their time together was always very creative and stimulating he craved these quiet times more and more when it was just him and Chrissie’s chatter about her day. It was one night in bed that he had the realization that she might be his one. He could envision himself touring with the band and recharging with her in the time interspaced until he was old and grey.

When Roger rang the bell to his tiny apartment the next morning, stormed in and pressed Brian against the door and started kissing him senseless. Brian had to focus very hard to gather his thoughts but when he managed to, he gently pushed his friend away. “Roger we’ve got to talk…” He started. Roger looked up to his friend too much honesty and brightness in his eyes. Brian’s mimic must have given some of the severity, he felt, away, though because he almost physically saw his friend pull up a wall around himself. “What is it?” Roger asked carefully even but Brian could sense the rigidity in his friends’ shoulders through the thin material Roger was wearing as he still held him. “Rog – “, he sighed “Mate, I’ve met someone… And I want you all to meet her.” Roger pulled back immediately, a look of confusion gracing his aesthetic features. “What does that have to do with this?” he motioned between the two of them. Brian couldn’t look him in the eye. “Nothing, nothing really… Except I want to be faithful to her. We haven’t… You know done anything yet, but I really feel like I should not, you know… maybe us fucking isn’t the best way to start a real relationship with her.” He looked up to see a look of hurt in Roger’s eyes that was quickly pushed down. “Fine” Roger bit out. “But for the record, this is just that. Fucking. Nothing more, so really there should not be a problem.”

Brian sighed and pinched his nose. “Roger, maybe being sexually promiscuous doesn’t mean anything to you, but I find the thought of being with someone, while I am trying to establish a real connection with someone, a little bit offensive. I, for my part, value the people around me and don’t want to betray their trust in me.” “Unlike _me_ , you mean.” Brian recognized Roger’s hurt voice. “Ah Rog” he tried to make amends “Don’t take it personally but I want this to really mean something. This is me not just playing around. It is high time we faced the truth anyway. We were never meant to be. We are just friends – and I am not even gay!” Roger looked at him incredulously and then doubled over in laughter. Brian started to get annoyed. Roger wiped away his tears and distanced himself a few paces further. “Man, I’ve surely not met anyone who could lie to himself as well as you do, May. You should man up and face the facts, we’ve done this now for how long?” He looked mockingly contemplative and tapped his index finger to his lips. “Over one and a half years now, wasn’t it?” He smiled condescendingly. “But, please, _do_ go ahead and conform to your stereotypical, domestic dream of a stable girl and a house.” His gaze turned from derisive to serious and intense. “But I know you, Brian Harold May. You will not find fulfilment in this life. Once you realize you are trapped in an oppressive relationship, don’t you dare come back to me for entertainment.” His comments were meant to hurt but Brian tried again: “Don’t confuse your lifestyle with mine, Rog. I don’t fuck around like you and discard people like clothes. I always wanted a stable home to come home to. Mate, I thought we could talk about this rationally, without all this childish fuss.” Brian knew when Roger physically jerked back as if Brian had hit him that his thoughtless comment had hit home. He had lost him for this conversation. He knew that their friendship had always depended on a deep mutual respect and understanding of the opposite’s motives, but Brian had inadvertently proven to Roger that he didn’t see Roger’s decisions as equal to his. His comment about Roger’s childishness, even though Brian thought himself very justified in this precise moment, also targeted one of Roger’s deeply buried insecurities. Like Brian, he had never been truly supported or had been belittled by his surroundings for his aspirations, until he had finally found like-minded people in the band. He regretted having destroyed that save space instantly but was to proud to correct his mistake.

Roger looked up to him with unmistakable hurt in his posture but turned around wordlessly and stormed out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This - although short (and sweet, I hope) - is for all the wonderful people, who leave comments. Thank you so much. You inspire me to write.

**March 1974**

Roger was blinded by his tears. He didn’t know exactly what hurt him so deeply. Brian’s comments surely were chosen to procure the most damage but somehow that wasn’t _it_. Brian was his best friend and somehow, he had just lost the one person in his life that had always been there for him, where he didn’t feel judged and felt like he could truly be himself. The illusion was destroyed with a few words. He sucked in a shaky breath. He needed to get absolutely shitfaced.

He pushed the girl out of the men’s bathroom and didn’t even have the conscious to feel bad about her undignified yelp and the cat-calls he had subjected her to. Roger pulled his trousers back up and closed the buttons feeling utter disgust with himself. He fled the club and the music and the judgement. He didn’t know how he got to John’s door but Veronica, Deaky’s girl, opened the door looking slightly disgruntled but called John upon recognizing Roger. John pulled him inside and held Roger’s hair up when he puked his guts out and stroked his back.

Roger woke up and felt like a hammer had knocked him down repeatedly. A hand appeared out of the nowhere and handed him two pills and water, which he greedily chucked down. He flopped back down and turned away from John who sat next to him silently, with a newspaper casually resting on his leg. “Is there any chance I didn’t tell you what has happened?” He asked, muffled by the pillow. John sighed a no. “Shite.” Roger swore softly, glad he didn’t have to face his friend. “Lemme sleep for another few hours and then we can talk?” He asked hopefully, peering out from his pillow. “Sure.” John stood and left. “I’ll wait ‘till those pills have done their magic.”

Roger joined John mid-day. John made some breakfast with freshly-pressed orange juice in silence. He knew he’d have to face his friend at some point but was thankful John’s quiet patience. Once he was done John put his newspaper down and fixed him with a look. “I knew something was happening, but I just hoped it wasn’t _that_.” Roger had the decency to look guilty. “It is over now anyways.” Roger said defeatedly. “I’m glad.” Roger didn’t expect that answer and shot his friend a look. “What do you mean by that” he was angry. “Listen mate, I don’t know what exactly went down between you and Brian but… I suppose, I knew it had to end at some point and that you two would have a big fall-out over it. Now that we know, we can minimize the damage.” Roger looked away. “I don’t even know what it meant to me, and I haven’t even figured out how I feel about it.” “I am guessing not a lot.” John said light-heartedly and then continued slightly prickly: “You told me in graphic-detail yesterday about that girl that… sucked you off. Veronica thanks you for that information, by the way.” Roger hid his relief behind his embarrassment. ‘Thank god I didn’t feel the need to share everything about Bri and me.’

“But Roger – “ John looked very serious “You can’t keep doing this to Bri, he’s always been more of a romantic and is very serious about his relationships. And you obviously aren’t in it for the long term… You might truly hurt him in the process.” Roger didn’t correct him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 4**

Brian brought Chrissie to a recording session one day, the air tasted like summer and no one really wanted to get any real work done. He hadn’t meant to flaunt his relationship but her coming with him was just more practical that day, as they had wanted to go out later that evening. He knew he had made a mistake, the second the band turned around to greet him. Things had been tense with Roger, but they had just pretended that nothing had changed – and except for John’s critical looks and Freddie jumping around the recording studio, swinging a crystal, claiming that the atmosphere was suffocating and he had just cleansed it – it seemed as if things were finally levelling out a bit.

Roger had turned around first, always a little bit more in tune with Brian. He was a vision in these first moments – the light hitting him _just so_ – he was all mussed up hair and a beautifully excited grin on his features. Brian knew that look, Roger had written something special. But then Chrissie stepped out from behind Brian and Roger’s smile turned blinding, too much teeth and laughter on his cheeks, which no longer reached his blue eyes.

“Bri, Roger’s written but wanted to wait for you before he showed it to us… Who did you bring? My, you _are_ a beauty. Bri, why didn’t you tell.” Freddie jumped excitedly towards them and still managed to make it look like a graceful strut. Chrissie, visibly overwhelmed by the attention, grabbed Brian’s arm for support and he immediately hooked hers in his. She smiled up to him thankfully. “Guys, this is Christine Mullen. Chrissie, these are Freddie, John and Roger.” He didn’t linger on Roger, but it didn’t matter anyway, Roger pushed himself to the front and greeted Chrissie with a huge smile. “Oh, I’ve been waiting for so long to meet you, since I’ve heard so much about you!” That was a lie. “We’ve gotta talk smack about Brian.” Brian shot Roger a warning glare, who grinned mischievously with a slight edge, which Brian had so far never seen in his friend, simply ignored the taller man and pulled a flustered Chrissie into the studio. Freddie put down a manicured hand on Brian’s shoulder “Women, eh?”, winked and followed the other two.

Roger refused to show them his song later on, so they just worked on “She makes me”, during which Chrissie shot him an elated look repeatedly, Brian noticed, while Roger got progressively nastier throughout the evening. Shooting mean remarks towards everyone in his line of sight. Brian got irritated by his friend, but demanded Roger sing, when the blonde complained and asked for an end of the day multiple times. The tracks were just didn’t turn out exactly right, thus Brian acceded to finishing a little early a little defeated. He left the studio without another word to the others, grabbed Chrissie and left.

In the end, they had had a truly lovely evening. Brian took Chrissie out to a restaurant and they talked about everything and nothing. He found that no matter what they talked about, they seemed to agree on nearly everything. They had a very deep conversation where Brian explained that he dated to marry with the goal of having children and a stable home to return to after his tours. Chrissie voiced her concerns about his career and about him never being home, but Brian assured her that they likely wouldn’t tour much more than they already did and explained that a musician couldn’t just produce albums, because live shows where the essence of the band and the fans needed to connect with the band to continue to believe in the intimate connection they formed while listening to a track. She asked a lot of questions regarding the band’s internal dynamic and expressed a favouritism towards quite John. Regarding Roger and Freddie, she diplomatically stated that they seemed very energetic. He paid the bill of course and they made their way home strolling through the streets of London. On their way home, he suggested that they go to visit his parents the following day, who would be in town with his grandma. She seemed nervous but also excited to be taking that step with Brian and so she agreed.

He had invited his family for tea and cake, which Brian and Chrissie had baked together. He had to admit it turned out a lot better than his usual attempts alone, which were always a disaster. Meeting his family was slightly tense due to his father voicing his objection towards him moving in with a woman, to whom he wasn’t married to. He tried to reason with him calmly, that he and Chrissie had only known one another for about a half year and that marriage after such a short period of time was considered hastily and rushed in their generation. Grandma May was a force to be reckoned with, as she turned increasingly sassy with age. Chrissie had just explained their plan that with having a potential family, she would want to end her career and be fully present for a family, a plan his father approved of, when Brian realized, she thought Chrissie a little unambitious, through her remarks but was nonetheless elated that her grandson, whom she greatly loved found a person to be with. All in all, Chrissie seemed to increasingly loose her distant politeness and warmed up to the family as they did to her.

Brian and his mum were involved in a lively discussion about her scepticism regarding quantum-mechanical events explaining a very specific observation in light curvature – he had gotten his love for physics and the natural science from his very intelligent mother – when the doorbell rang. Grandma May jumped up, surprisingly agile for her age, and opened the door. Brian heard the old and usually very dignified lady squeal in delight. Brian went to receive the visitor as well and identified Roger’s light blond tresses sticking out from what seemed to be a massive hug that his gran and his friend shared. “Brian look, your beautiful better half of a girlfriend came!” His gran looked genuinely excited and tugged at the younger man’s tresses and tsked lovingly. “Ouch, grandma may! That hurts! And I am not a girl, thank you very much.” Roger playfully batted her hand away, but she just took his arm and lovingly placed a kiss on Roger’s cheek. “Ahh let the old lady fuss about your looks, I rarely get to do that with my own, very boringly proper grandchildren!” She shot Brian a poignant look. “Come on in Roger-dear, Ruth and Harold are also here and surely wanting to see you. It has been just too long.” Suddenly Roger appeared shy and turned to Brian: “Is that okay? I would love to see them, but I really just came here to deliver something for Freddie.” He held out a piece of paper that had a new lyric scribbled on it. He took it and thanked Roger while his gran exclaimed in indignation “Nonsense! Of course, you are coming in. Brian! Tell your girlfriend she is more than welcome, and you would love for her to see your parents again.” She then pulled Roger into the apartment without listening to Brian’s incredulous “He is a man, grandma!”

Brian joined them to see Roger being lovingly fretted over by his mum and observed a stern talking to from his dad before Roger was engulfed into a hug by him with a little jealousy. His parents had never really approved of Brian’s choice of career but had always loved Roger like a second son and supported him whole-heartedly. Ever since Roger had appeared teary-eyed on the door sill to his childhood home after having told his parents that he was quitting his university degree and pursuing a career as a musician, they felt it was their duty to provide him with the support he’d never been given. Nonetheless, it filled him with a warm kind of feeling when he observed how Roger impishly apologized for not calling more often and how happy he appeared as his family crowded around him. Roger finally turned around towards Brian and asked: “Bri, how come you didn’t tell me your family was in town…” He trailed off, as Chrissy entered the eating area. “Roger!” Chrissie exclaimed sounding genuinely surprised. “I didn’t know you were coming.” Roger shot Brian an undecipherable look and explained: “I wasn’t, but after hearing Bri’s family was here I just had to see them.” He cocked his head _just so_ – a movement that looked simply endearing to the untrained eye – but Brian clearly saw it as the gesture that was meant to trivialize the incident and calm the opposite.

It appeared to work, as Chrissie appeared a little more mollified. They all sat down and his family interrogated Roger about his life and he was all smiles and musical laughter. Roger managed to incorporate Chrissie into the conversation in a manner that didn’t feel forced and Brian could sit back and relax a little more and enjoy his family being together.

Roger called Brian late that evening and begged him to come to the recording studio the next day to record the high notes for Brian’s song once more as he wasn’t satisfied with what they had so far produced, to which Brian agreed. Roger waited for him the next morning, uncharacteristically early and almost shy. They managed to record quite a few dubs. Roger sang beautifully and when Brian told him so, while standing side by side at the controlling desk, where they listened to all the overlaid tracks together which now meshed beautifully, Roger flashed him a stunning-turned-wistful smile. Brian studied his friends even after he had turned his face back down, seemingly utterly engrossed in their work, but with a pink flush that belied him. Brian moved to push his friend’s hair behind his ear and Roger’s face whipped back up to face him straight on.

It seemed like such a natural thing, to lean down and press a small kiss on his friend’s mouth. Roger didn’t respond and so he kissed him once more, this one a more lingering version of the first. He pulled away as Roger was still unresponsive, but this movement seemed to kick Roger into action. He surged up and threw one arm around the taller man’s neck and gripped his shirt with the other. He pulled Brian back down and kissed him properly. Brian didn’t know how long or why he had done what he had but they broke apart hastily when they heard a large crash. Immediately Brian returned back to earth and as if a sudden increase in gravity occurred, guilt crashed around him. He was disgusted with what he had done – even though he couldn’t pin-point exactly, which of the multiple offences he had committed, weighed the heaviest. He turned and fled the scene and almost stumbled over the bags John had dropped in the entrance way and hid in the bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate my boy...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The point of view changes mid-way as indicated by the dotted line. I actually really like this chapter. I hope you do, too.

**Chapter 5**

Only seconds later did he hear angry shouts and the door to the bathroom banged open and an angry Roger was followed by an even angrier John. “Stop following him!” John demanded. “You don’t understand!” Roger waved him away, which seemed to irritate the base player. Brian followed the scene through a slit between the stall and its’ door. John grabbed the blonde’s lapels and pushed him against the door. “Listen to me, Taylor!” he almost shouted. “You promised! You said you wouldn’t do this to Brian anymore! Don’t you see that he is finally moved on with this Chrissie girl that he brought with him just two days ago?!” Roger angrily slapped John’s hands away. “You have no idea just how aware I am.” he seemed depressed. John seemed to deflate at that. “I just don’t understand why you kissed him again.” at this both Brian and Roger froze and opened his mouth as if to reply but then shut it again – Roger didn’t correct him “I mean we all know you like fooling around but think about Queen. What if Brian had to choose between the band and his girl –“ Roger cut his friend of “It was a bad idea.” He didn’t specify whose idea it had been. “You need to really work on your self-control!” Brian heard John say pityingly. Roger threw up his arms and stormed out shouting “For chrissake, Deacon! Get of my dick!” And Brian was left alone again.

Brian was driven the whole evening. The hot, liquid feeling of guilt and longing and guiltiness for his longing made him want to drown everything out. He only realized how far he was willing to go for this feeling to leave him, when he was in front of his friend’s apartment – very drunk. Brian rang on his door insistently and almost stumbled inside, when the door was opened abruptly. He immediately pressed himself flush against Roger and attacked his mouth, filthily liked into his mouth and bit down. Roger’s moan was silenced punishingly and he ground himself against Roger hard. Roger was pliant in his arms and Brian picked him up and hooked his legs around his waist. Roger bit and kissed and sucked against the column of his throat – marks that would surely still be visible the next morning – he scraped down the long line of Brian’s back and Brian’s brain short circuited. They stumbled towards Roger’s couch and when Brian put him down, Roger positively ripped his clothes apart in his deprived eagerness. They were a mess of tangled limbs fighting for dominance but finally Brian pushed the other down with the whole might of his longer torso as leverage pulled him up by the hips, giving Roger a few seconds time to brace against the cushions while lubing up his cock and then pushing in, in one clean stroke that knocked the air out of the blonde.

Brian felt himself letting go of all control, driving into the blonde’s ass again and again. The sight of Roger, sweat-slicked and panting, ass up in the air being pounded by his dick was a glorious sight. Roger though seemed like he couldn’t get enough, he turned his face around such that it was no longer pressed into the cushions and watched him out of the corners of his oh-so blue eyes. Brian bent forward and saw Roger’s face going tense, then slack with ecstasy, as his cock went impossibly even deeper. “If only the woman, you were with, could see you now…” Roger breathed and shamefully the illicit thought went straight to Brian’s dick. “My god Roger – “ Brian clamped his palm against Roger’s mouth to shut him up and pulled him up in front of Brian. Roger’s back was flush with Brian’s front and he felt Roger’s pants against his spit-slick fingers. “Shut it.” He panted out in between thrusts but Roger’s mimic just pulled into a shit-eating grin “Think about this, the next ti-ime you’re having boring vanilla-sex with her. Think about, how no-one’s ever seen you like this, pounding my ass and – nghhh… Loving it. Aaah – “

Brian, bit down on his shoulder _hard_ and simultaneously forced himself against Roger’s prostate. That was enough to push Roger to edge. “Bri, I – nggh” was all Roger managed as a warning, but Brian had noticed Roger’s hole tightening around their joining and grabbed his friend’s dick forcefully. Roger came in thick ropes of hot milky liquid. He sagged against Brian’s arms – now the only force holding him upright. Brian let him fall face first, secured Roger’s hips and drove into Roger precisely, ruthlessly hitting his sensitized prostate over and over again. Roger was a whimpering mess in the cushions, tears flowing from his cerulean eyes when Brian finally came with a sob that suspiciously sounded like Roger’s name.

“Fuck you” Roger all but moaned and winced when he distanced himself from Brian. He then hit Brian with the flat of his palm “You royal asshole! You screwed everything up…” Roger looked smaller than himself somehow. He had pulled up a blanket from somewhere and clutched it to his chest as if to shield himself from Brian, his lips were bitten red and his eyes red-rimmed, matching the tears that threatened to fall. Brian was overcome with a sobering kind of hot shame and warmth for the smaller one. He sat up and turned away, resting his temple against his palms. ‘ _How could I have done this to him._ ’ “I’m sorry” he choked out. Roger, after observing him a few seconds, shuffled closer and shushed him like a small child. “It’s fine, Bri. I edged you on. Don’t worry about me.” He mumbled to him in a quiet pitch.

Brian’s floodgates opened, and he sobbed ugly tears about what he had done and what he had done to Roger and Chrissie. Roger clung to him and stroked his back, kissed his brow, his temple, lips and every other square inch of his face and shoulders.

 -----------

It was Christmas, and everyone was busy. Usually the band would celebrate together but for some reason this year, they’d changed plans. John had wanted to celebrate with his girlfriend and Freddie was with Mary and her friends, to which Roger and Brian had obviously been invited, but upon hearing Brian refusing with the excuse of celebrating elsewhere, Roger had felt that a desperate kind of small feeling preventing him from agreeing. He had lied and said that he was already committed elsewhere. Unfortunately, though, he hadn’t secured anything. Roger had called his sister Clare, who was celebrating with his family and had left the call feeling even more pitiable and alone. Roger decided to knock himself out of it and put on his coat to head out to the nearest pub.

The cold air hit him like a sledgehammer and he felt blessedly numb. It had started snowing and he watched his breath form with puffs of warm air.

Before he reached the first streetlamp, illuminating the snowy ground in a gentle, warm light, he heard a breathy shout that had him turn around. There jogged Brian – his silhouette unmistakable – panting slightly and snowflakes stuck in his hair and lashes. Roger didn’t know what to feel, the tip of Brian’s nose was reddened and a frown decorated his brows. “Merry Christmas, mate. I’m on my way to the pub. Are you joining me to get shitfaced?” Roger thus asked. Brian, however, remained silent. “Where is your girl, May, I thought you two were celebrating in perfect domestic bliss!” Roger said with his nose scrunched in pointed derision at the last part. Brian blinked slowly, as he always did when he tried to figure something out about the inner workings of his friends and wasn’t satisfied what Roger outwardly projected. Roger felt uncomfortably see-through.

After a few beats Brian bridged the distance carefully and pulled Roger into a hug. Roger – very surprised – had to consciously tell himself to loosen himself muscle by muscle, limb by limb. He awkwardly patted Brian on the back. “What brought this on?” He asked confused. “Do you want to join us, Rog?” Brian mumbled into his hair. Roger froze. He hadn’t wanted his friend to pity him but just as he wanted to protest, Brian pulled him even tighter and said in a low-pitch: “I want you to be there, Roggie. We are family after all. I am so sorry I didn’t realize sooner.” He didn’t even leave time to refute the offer and turned around and pulled a very flustered Roger behind him.

To say Roger was embarrassed, when Brian and him arrived to a decorated house and a slightly annoyed Chrissie Mullen, was an understatement. But Brian didn’t allow a second for him to apologize and ushered him in. Soon they had eaten and sat around the Christmas tea. Roger was snuggled up and nursing a cup of tea while Brian cleared the table. Roger found that Chrissie was actually a very accommodating person to be around with. They had conversed pleasurably about everything and nothing for quite some time now, never letting the topics become too deep. Although the atmosphere between them was still a little strained but Roger could see that she truly cared for Brian and gave him a sense of acceptance. He remained not d’accord with their unambitious plans for their future and still found her a bit boring, but she was obviously committed to everything that was Brian.

They had been talking for quite some time and it had grown suspiciously quiet in the kitchen. They called out to ask what Brian was doing but didn’t receive any answer, which lead them to investigate. Chrissie and Roger found Brian sitting in the kitchen, surrounded in a small mountain of scribbled tunes and lyrics. Roger felt the itch underneath his fingernails to join and help Brian but knew that if they started now, they wouldn’t finish until the next morning and they would have had spend the holiday of family and togetherness absorbed in their own little world. Not even Brian would want that if he were in a rational state of mind. He glanced over a little helplessly to Chrissie, who – surprisingly – didn’t look particularly annoyed but instead smiled warmly at her partner. She went to Brian and gently guided him up and away from his scribbles, pushed a cup of tea into his hands, for him to hold unto something and nudged him toward the sofa.

Roger was astonished, she had managed to succeed in such an undertaking, but couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at what his friend had written. It was just a start but it surely had potential. Roger sighed. Brian _was_ good. He walked back into the living room and was faced with the sight of Brian and Chrissie cuddled up together, sharing a private conversation. Instantly, hot jealousy flooded to him that gave way quickly to shame and dread. Who was he to resent someone intruding in his life and thus distorting its’ dynamic, when he could potentially cause enough damage to tear the couple apart, just for his own selfish reasons. He could clearly see the care, love and dreams the pair shared. This made him feel marginally better, at least Brian knew how to pick them. Nevertheless, Roger was slightly scared of the intensity of his possessiveness towards Brian. Chrissie was objectively a nice woman and obviously did Brian good but he couldn’t help but resent her. He resolved to work harder to come to terms with the fact that Brian had a second centre of gravity.

Brian looked up and gave Roger a beautiful smile that was so inherently Brian, he couldn’t help but respond in kind, although his heart ached painfully. He flopped himself down next to them, yet slightly apart, and promptly was pulled closer by Brian, who casually slung an arm across his shoulders. He didn’t really remember much afterwards – they must’ve all fallen asleep watching TV – but was woken up by Brian peppering small kisses all over Roger’s face. Roger opened his eyes and instantly felt more awake as he saw the look in his friend’s eyes. His eyes looked positively awake with desire and his pupils were dilated such that only a small ring of colour was visible in the periphery. Roger checked whether Chrissie was close but saw her slightly away in an armchair clutching a blanket for warmth. All the shame and guilt Roger felt didn’t prevent him from following Brian, as the taller pulled him into to bathroom, shoving his hand down Brian’s trousers and swallowing his moans with his kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One may or may not notice that I wrote this at Christmas.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so behind on answering to your comments. Sorrrrry. I profusely apologize.  
> University is killing me currently, I AM writing though. Love you all.

**Chapter 6**

Brian and Chrissie had just come home from meeting her parents and somehow Brian had noticed more than ever that he and his girlfriend had very little to talk about. She came from a very conservative background – as did he – but where he had emancipated himself from his parents’ dreams, she was very much stuck in the path her family had prepared her for. Studying philosophy had been a small victory against her predetermined future but her family had continued to install in her a sense of domestic duty, which in return caused her to abandon her studies, now that she had met Brian, whom she was planning on having a family with. In the beginning, he had not really noticed her lack of ambition in life or excused it as her still searching for her path, something to which he could very much relate to. But a few conversations with his family and band-mates had highlighted that this was one of Chrissie’s determining qualities.

Brian didn’t mind a desire for domesticity, for he himself felt similar, but what bothered him was that she had no real passion for anything. She lived her life as she felt her duty to him, her family and her friends was but rarely did anything selfishly because she was passionate for it. In that respect, Brian was very dissimilar. And Brian felt increasingly uncomfortable with sharing his passions with her, because it simply highlighted her disinterest.

He turned to teaching Roger about the universe, in private. Even though Roger pretended to not care at all about Brian’s academic interests and people often tended to forget that he successfully finished a biology degree with minimal effort, Roger was secretly very interested in natural sciences. They often found themselves discussing similarities in quantomechanical phenomena in the endless universe and invisible molecules. Roger had interesting insights for example regarding the tunnel effect, which Brian, so far, had considered only in terms of light in space but Roger refreshingly contrasted that with the inversion of nitrogen or with phenomena in cellular respiration, which made Brian reconsider the dimensions in which he usually thought. Of course, Roger would always pass of his comments as nonchalant side-remarks to preserve his anti-academic, rebellious reputation. Regardless, Brian loved him a little bit more for the knowledge shared.

 

**Late 1975**

He didn’t know how his affair wasn’t found out about. Chrissie and he had moved in with one another and were slowly planning their future together, and Brian loved her – wholeheartedly. They seemed to agree on almost any issue and she was the one he wanted to commit to and resolved to do so every night they lay down next to each other, but as soon as something put Brian on edge, he would ache for Roger with a passion. Brian always seemed to end up in bed with Roger moaning beautifully and writhing beneath him. He felt torn between two extremes. He also noticed his relationship with Roger was continuously deteriorating. Even though, physically, they were more intimate than ever, they seemed to distance themselves emotionally. Sometimes, Brian caught small instances in which Roger would glance at him with a wistful smile that seemed tinged with pain. Brian didn’t know to respond and thus chose to gloss over these moments. Roger smoked and drank progressively more. It almost seemed as if the only way Brian could get through to the real Roger, that was hidden beneath all his layers of pretence, was to fuck it out of him. During sex Roger would liven up and return to who Brian knew his best friend to be. Thus, he continued.

They started their “A night at the opera” tour and felt like proper rock-stars. Brian was high on adrenaline and also a little drunk. The band had started to drink to smother their nerves before every gig. Their songs dominated the charts and they were more popular than ever. Their fans waved, clapped and sang along with them and Brian felt like he could take on the world. These moments made him feel alive and complete. There was no guilt – only the band and their music. They played a song that had Roger singing flawlessly in a clear, high pitch. The song crescendo’ed and Brian turned towards the drummer. Roger hit the drums precisely in time with Brian and their synchrony flowed through Brian. He concentrated on Roger’s face – the man was currently mastering the feet of engaging all of his limbs as well as singing a true rock-star. It dawned on Brian that Roger pulled exactly that same face during sex. He looked debauched with messy hair, blush high on his cheeks and lids half closed. Brian knew that no one else within this massive number of people had had the privilege of seeing his friend like this, of being partial to this knowledge. Roger finished a high note and seemed to return to earth. He held the guitarist’s gaze and Brian felt a warmth spread causing him to almost miss a note. Roger, of course, noticed and something in Brian’s face seemed to amuse him because he sent over a flirtatious but warm smile and winked at him.

The band had just left the stage and Roger slung his arm around Brian’s middle and pecked him on his chin. Roger snickered and grimaced. “Mmmh, salty” he remarked. Brian giggled, blood rushing through his veins and not caring at all that the others saw. He would have done something stupid if Roger hadn’t pulled away and tackled Freddie in a very characteristic show of affection. Brian caught a frown from Deacy. He focused on the bassist. “Do you have a problem?” He asked almost accusingly. Brian didn’t know what, but something irritated him about the bassist’s judgemental behaviour. But, John Deacon just turned away and focused on the other two, suggesting they go out to party, which was unanimously agreed upon.

Almost every night after a show, before the band assembled for their post-show party, Roger and Brian fucked each other into the wall. The lingering adrenaline and sweat and sweetness, which the distance to home brought out of them, made these moments Brian’s favourite for each night. He felt less guilty, due to him not having to return to his girlfriend and Roger came back out of his shell. He seemed bubbly, self-confident and cheeky again. His smoking lessened, Brian noticed.

**Early 1976**

He woke up next to his lover with beautiful, bright sunlight filtering in through their hotel window. Roger lay next to him nuzzled into the crook of his arm. His hair all gorgeously messy and his face devoid of all the recent tension. Brian smiled down on his friend and traced the beautiful slope of Roger’s cheekbone and pushed back an errand strand of hair to expose the sideburns Roger had been wearing recently. He followed the line of Roger’s high brow-bone down the line of his cute, lovely crooked nose and over his slightly opened lips. The puffs of air were cut of when Roger sleepily kissed his fingers and blinked up at Brian. “Morning, love” Brian bowed down and placed a chaste peck on his lover’s lips that belied the passion with which they had gone at each other just the previous night.

When he pulled back, a serene and beautiful smile lit up Roger’s face and Brian’s heart pulled together sharply. He couldn’t dwell on that feeling and so initiated a lazy morning fuck. Having sex required less thinking about their current state of fucked up. They had nailed their routine by now. Roger was sat atop Brian, straddling his thighs and doing all kinds of things to Brian’s cock simply by moaning into Brian’s movements while he fingered him open, when a door banged open in the hallway that connected their rooms to one another.

“Queens, yesterday’s show was killer! Roger, dear, have you seen Brian, he seems not to have come back yesterday…” Freddie exclaimed loudly. Brian and Roger froze. They really had no chance to pretend their situation was anything but what it was exactly, before Freddie stood in a forcefully opened door, flabbergasted. Roger attempted to pull up his boxers stumbled, and Brian just sat immobile, horror clear on his face with the duvet barely covering his modesty. “Wha- what has happened here? Bri?” Freddie seemed unable to comprehend. Roger pulled a grimace and in an attempt at nonchalance asked whether Freddie shouldn’t know exactly what was happening. The joke fell flat. John, who had apparently followed Freddie, now joined the singer. His posture was rigid, and his jaw clenched tight, as he put his hand on Freddie’s shoulder, forcefully pushed him to turn and out. Roger, he shot a glare and Brian a disappointed look.

“Oh fuck!” Roger cursed and fell face-first into the bed. “Shit, fuck, bloody fuck, how did we bloody let this happen!” Was all Brian understood from where Roger had muffled his thoughts into the bedding. panic clouded Brian’s mind. This whole… affair had been fine, as long as no one but the two involved knew of it. But who knew, how Freddie, who – even though promiscuous himself – always told his partners about his partners about his polyamory, would react to Brian obviously betraying his girlfriend’s trust. “Bri?” Came a small question from Roger, who apparently interpreted Brian’s silence correctly. He repeated Brian’s name, more insistently, now.

Brian snapped out of it. He looked at his fiend and almost smiled at the younger, who looked slightly scared at Brian’s reaction, despite the severity of the situation. “Let’s go downstairs and join the others, Rog. What has happened’s happened. We cannot change it any longer.” “But I don’t wanna!” Roger whined. “Deacy, can be downright scary, if he wants to be.” Brin chuckled dejectedly and pulled the blonde up.

Both, John and Freddie, were livid. But Freddie was much more vocal about his feeling: “What the bloody hell were you two thinking?!”, he exclaimed in a harsh whisper yell. Brian pinched his nose bridge and forced a smile. “Good morning to you, too”. They both flopped down on their seats and ordered something for breakfast. Freddie was clearly seething but contained himself until the waitress was gone again. “Now?” He demanded. “Fine!”, Roger huffed out. “We fuck, alright? It doesn’t matter, since it changes nothing!” “How can you say, it doesn’t matter, when this is the clear path to literally fucking up this band?” Freddie hissed in response. Roger rolled his eyes dramatically, but Brian tried to make amends by stating: “Well so far it hasn’t and it won’t, if you don’t make it out to something it isn’t.”

Brian really shouldn’t have said anything, because Freddie focused his fury at him now. “You have no right… Have you even spent a second thinking about your girlfriend, Brian? I thought you were serious. This – you two messing around – will seriously fuck everything up!” Freddie’s whispers had progressively increased in volume. Brian snapped: “Fuck, Fred. You should know best how it is… When you are on tour – alone and you just _don’t_ want to be? You can’t really preach here, can you? Before you came out to Mary, you fucked a whole lot more people than I have!”

If Brian had looked to his right, he would have noticed the hurt look that flashed across Roger’s face but disappeared just as quickly, to be followed by a mask of indifference. John did notice though.

Later that same evening, Brian went to the nearest payphone and dialled his home number. “Chrissie” he breathed relieved after she had picked up. They talked a bit about everything and nothing and Brian felt his soul calmed. “Chrissie?” He questioned, suddenly very convinced that he wanted to pursue what he had called her for. “Love, I know we’ve talked a lot about marriage and having a family, but I am certain I want to marry you as soon as I come back from this tour. I love you and I want to have children with you and fulfil the dream I always had for my life.” He paused and was suddenly a little concerned at the silence that screamed from the other end of the line. “Chrissie?” He inquired again. “Brian Harold May, are you asking me to marry you over the phone.” Came a breathily sobbed answer. Brian laughed out a relieved sound and nodded. Realising, she couldn’t see him through the phone he voiced his answer. “Yes! Yes, I will marry you.” The rest of their conversation was a blur to Brian. He just felt relieve at finally having a secure partner whom he would always be able to fall back upon. A flash of guilt hit him as he listened to the excited voice of his fiancée. He tried to feel the same bubbling excited feeling but blamed the lack thereof on his long, exhausting day.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something short.

**April 1976**

The music was blaring, and Roger could no longer feel his head. The lights confused him and the alcohol in his veins had the room spinning in a comforting but nauseating manner. Comforting, because it meant blissful ignorance and nauseating because – well, because he had to puke. Roger stumbled to the club’s bathroom through a massive sea of people, all of whom didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He retched everything out into the toilet including the dearly needed alcohol. He felt hot tears burn in his eyes as the bile acid burned its way from inside out.

Roger’s hair was tugged back by some stranger, who rubbed comforting circles unto his neck. “Deacy.” He exclaimed weakly after identifying his friend. John helped him up – pulled him into a vertical position, rather – and guided him to the sink. Wordlessly, John helped him rinse his mouth and splatter his face with ice cold water. “Mate, shall we leave? I’ll bring you back to the hotel…” John looked at the blonde concernedly. “Whatever.” Was all Roger managed weakly.

The short trip back to hotel included them walking a few strides outside in the crisp night. The cold air helped him think better and blanketed his pounding headache. Roger looked up and let out a shaky breath that was dangerously close to a sob. “They are beautiful, aren’t they.”, Roger concluded softly, blinking the tears away, as he directed John’s gaze to the night sky, which was spotted by bright spots, seemingly sputter across the dark blue velvet at random.

John was silent but finally agreed: “They are… Roger?” he faded as if unsure: “How long have you loved Bri?” Roger was quiet. He looked back at his friend. John had a sobering kind of look to him, that seemed to penetrate in an intense kind of way. “Rog?” He asked softly. “How did you know?” Roger countered instead. “Well the most obvious clue was your reaction today to Brian’s engagement announcement, today. I’ve never quite seen you this determined to lose as many brain cells as possible”.

Roger remained quiet. After a few breaths he turned around, tears in his eyes smudging the streetlights to smears of light. “I don’t know. Maybe always?” They walked a few more blocks. “It doesn’t matter, though… Brian’s always wanted children. I would’ve never been able to be the future he wanted for himself.”

John looked at him pityingly.


	11. Chapter 11

**London, Summer of 1976**

It had been a few months since returning from their tour. Freddie had invited them to one of his legendary parties, but Brian didn’t really feel like making a fool out of himself and the party was already slightly past its peak. John was already drunk, causing him to stupidly smile at his girl, a tell-tale red smile from Veronica’s lipstick across his mouth. Roger was somewhere, and Freddie was sprawled across a slightly thicker set young man, who seemed enamoured with him. Brian – awkwardly – sat next to the pair not drunk enough to make sense of John’s rambling and not blind enough to talk to Freddie while ignoring the heavy make out session he was engaged in. Brian sighed and went to grab a drink. He almost regretted not bringing Chrissie along, but she had felt slightly suffocated in her daily routine and he had decided he’d wanted to live a little nonetheless. Brian noticed that the girl Roger had brought – Dominique, he remembered – stood slightly away from the celebrations and sipped at her drink in the mild summer night.

He hadn’t even consciously decided to join her but found himself next to her nonetheless. She looked stunning in an understated sense. Her makeup was light, her hair kept natural and her dress just bordering sexy. She smiled at him as he awkwardly searched for conversation starters. In the end she started asking him questions and he learned that she had met Rog at their Hyde Park concert quite some time in the past, when she had worked as personal assistant to Richard Branson, who had organized the concert. But had since quit because her boss had been a “sexist pig”. He liked her ferociousness and that she was opinionated. And even though Roger had known her for quite for some time, their relationship seemed rather casual. Brian didn’t want to dwell on why that soothed him oddly.

Dominique offered to refill her glasses and left him alone with his thoughts. Unwillingly, his thoughts returned to easier times, when he had been sure that the night would end with him throwing Roger a meaningful glance across the room and would be pushed into the sheets by a bright-eyed Roger. He was convinced he was retrospectively glorifying their past but Brian couldn’t help but feel a little wistful. This was why, it almost shocked Brian into reality, when he was faced with the materialization of his musings. Roger looked drunk, angry and aggressive. Though Brian could only deduce the latter two through his friend’s tense bearing as he smoked a cigarette almost intimidatingly. Brian felt a sense of Deja-vu. It had only been a few months since they’d last been in a very similar situation, however then, the atmosphere had been charged with sexual tension and the look in his friend’s eyes had been  hungry.

Brian let out a slow breath and decided to diffuse the tension with some chatter: “I’ve just talked to Dominique, she’s a great girl, you must be…” He didn’t finish his sentence as a breeze picked up and blew Roger’s tresses back from his face, revealing smudged lipstick on Roger’s collar. A shade of lipstick that did not match Dominique’s. Unknowingly, Brian had crossed the distance between them as something simultaneously hot and cold burned in his stomach and flooded his veins irrationally. As he found he’d taken a very still Roger’s collar in his hand an examined it more closely, he decided the feeling was outrage on Dominique’s part. He angrily pulled his friend’s collar up for him to see and accused him in a whisper-yell. “Roger?! Just how drunk off your stupid ass are you. Cheating on your girlfriend while she’s at the same party – I cannot believe you would do something like that! That is really low, even for you…” He only noticed his hypocrisy as he saw his friend’s eyes ablaze with fury, which gave way to an almost cruel smirk disgracing his beautiful features. Roger slapped Brian’s hand away, in a very coordinated gesture for how drunk Brian thought him to be, and stepped into Brian’s space in turn. “Why do you presume to know anything about my relationship with Dom? Do not tell me what to do. _Ever_. Who are you to lecture me on fidelity, May. Huh?!” Brian winced. Roger pulled back, fixed Brian with an intense gaze and took a drag of his cigarette. Then, he turned the still glowing bud in his fingers and pressed it into Brian’s cotton-clad shoulder. “Fuck up lives anywhere but here. May!” Roger growled in a low pitch.

The pain registered belatedly. Brian jerked back, holding his shoulder. John – a very hard look on his face as he fixed Brian – pulled Roger back, took his cigarette out of his hands and guided him towards Dom and ordered them to get inside. “You need to go.” John addressed Brian. “Leave.” He reinstated when Brian didn’t move. Finally, he turned and went home, hurt and confused.

Once he arrived, Brian sat down and started putting in words the lyric that had formed on the way home.

Never knew I ~~would end up~~ could be here // Oh, how wrong can ~~you~~ I be? // How was I to know I was far too much in love ~~(?)~~ to see? // Look at me now // You gave me no warning, took me by surprise // If only you could see what you do to me // ~~To proud to think you could hurt me so~~ I wasn’t man enough to let you hurt my pride // Took me by surprise to turn into the jealous kind…

Brian faltered. This was too honest. He could not show these to the others. _Roger_ would know. He stood panicked. Crumpled up the lyric and was halfway to the bin but stopped mid-motion. He couldn’t throw this away. It had potential. A feeling of dread settled low in his abdomen. He picked up his coat again frantically and drove to Freddie’s apartment thumping his fist on the front door. “Freddie, Fred Open up!” When his friend finally, _finally_ opened the door, looking bedraggled and sleepy, Brian pushed the piece of paper into his friend’s chest. He ignored his friend’s rumbling about the time of day – very early – and begged him to take this song, finish it and publish it with him as author. Freddie looked at him questioningly “Are you alright, Bri? What is this. You never share authorship…” He stared at the lines and shot him an incredulous look. Brian simply turned around and left, pretending not to hear Freddie’s confused objections.

**\------------**

****The next morning, Dom left early, but didn’t fail to throw him an intense gaze across the room and make him promise that they would talk when he felt up for it. _When_ not _if_. Roger went to his kitchen to find Freddie handling his kitchenware in an attempt to produce something edible. Roger didn’t even question his friend’s presence anymore. Roger caught Freddie’s dark gaze. His friend didn’t even need to ask and pushed a large mug filled with coffee over. The sat in silence as Freddie ate his breakfast and Roger nursed his coffee. Roger tried hard not to squirm as he felt Freddie’s heavy gaze on him.

Finally, he spoke up: “Something made me write this song yesterday”. He pushed over some tune scribbled on a used of paper. Roger had never needed to listen to music to envision what a composition could sound like. “What does that have to do with me?” He asked confusedly. “Nothing, nothing. Do you want to help me finish the lyrics?” He pushed over a second piece on a darker, slightly grey-ish paper. Obviously recycled. Roger had to snort. Freddie never used recycled paper. He took a cursory glance at the lyrics and felt something close up his airways. He cleared his throat and looked at this friend. “This song that _you_ wrote…” He looked at Freddie pointedly, who had the balls to keep an absolute poker face “this song is a good start. You want me to work it over?” Freddie nodded, and Roger looked down on the sheet and sighed, grabbed a pen and got to work. Circa an hour later, he straightened his back and cracked his neck. “Done.” He exclaimed. Freddie immediately looked at it. “Beautiful. We shall call it jealousy!” Roger disagreed vehemently, trying to cover up the pink flush that he was sure had appeared on his face. But Freddie just pecked him on the cheek and hugged him a few seconds more lingering than he would usually. “He looked a bit panicked yesterday… I am not sure whether he is ready to face his emotions yet…” Freddie said hesitantly. “I don’t really want to meddle and I know I was an avid opponent of you two before, because I thought you two would ruin the band but –“ at this he sighed heavily “ – but you two are even more miserable apart.” He pulled away slightly and held Roger at armlength. “Maybe focus on yourself for a while. I am sure he will face his feelings eventually, but you cannot wait for him and waste away your life. You are just as important.” Roger couldn’t face him. He knew he had to get his drinking problems in order, he was bordering on being an alcoholic. But he _had_ been getting better – he had found a true friend in Dominique and had started facing his issues little by little. Freddie placed another kiss on his forehead and ruffled the younger one’s hair. “I’ll leave you for now, but you know you can talk to us, right?” Roger smiled at that a little, it was true – he had his friends.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all my lovely readers:  
> I have not abandoned this fic. I was pretty busy and after I took it up again I needed some time to think where this was going. But I have written a couple more chapters and feel more confident now.  
> Thanks for staying with me and this fic.

**Chapter 7**

Summa sum arum, Brian decided, he felt relieved that his affair had effectively ended. He no longer carried the guilt everywhere he went. He no longer felt hot shame flood through him when he interacted with both his friend and his fiancée. Brian missed Roger though. He tried not to care when mind-numbing boredom overcame him in his own four walls. He no longer found himself in that manic state, he had regularly been in, when inspiration had struck. His songs felt forced, even if they were technically flawless. If Roger was too drunk to function day after a night out, or when Roger turned up to a recording session with a fresh love-bite, he tried to reduce the feeling that coursed through him to only feel friendly concern.

Chrissie and Brian married and immediately started trying for children. Brian felt truly hopeful that his life would finally be free of complications. In his newly-wed bliss it was easy to push all thoughts of Roger into the back of his mind. He had noticed that John and Roger had increasingly gotten closer, while he and Freddie buried themselves in their work. Queen became increasingly more famous and his life was a blur of shows, drunken nights, long recording sessions and a few, short weeks of home-life with his wife. Brian was surprised that his relationship with Chrissie only got better with increased distance. They fought less and Brian thought less about how he and Chrissie grew increasingly distant in their life-style – which, Brian reasoned, didn’t matter, because they loved each other. Brian liked to think that their marriage survived fame really well.

When Brian’s first son was born he vowed he would spend more time with his family. This promise had to soon be broken because too many opportunities appeared that were just too good to pass on. The band spend more time together and all those concerns for Roger’s lifestyle, he had managed to push to the back of his mind, resurfaced. He felt guilt at being the cause of his friend’s misery but Roger had made it very clear that his friendship and concern was not appreciated. Brian felt that it was impossible for him to correct his mistakes from the past without repeating the same offences. Deep down he knew they would somehow return to the _relationship_ they shared before. He missed his best friend though. Too often he would think of something he had to share with his friend and felt he couldn’t. Whenever Roger wrote something very special, Brian wanted nothing more than shower his friend with love and appreciation, but he felt too scared to get to close to his friend, in fear of hurting him even more in the process. Additionally, Brian felt he couldn’t keep the derision for Roger’s multiple partners in check. His friend slept around more than he had ever done before.

Thus, he didn’t think anything of it at first, as he saw Roger with a beautiful, long-legged girl with an adorable French accent, especially since right after meeting her Roger left with another bird. But this one seemed to have gotten under Roger’s skin. He had brought her to recording sessions repeatedly, and Brian found himself really enjoying her easy-going witty attitude. Roger also seemed to be getting better, a bit of his old joy returned, he seemed to simultaneously mature and regain some of his cheek and youthfulness. And Brian really enjoyed seeing their casual relationship, which was based so strongly on a robust friendship, grow. Thus, within the span of roughly a year, their tension eased slightly and even though their relationship hadn’t returned in depth, they managed an easy, if cautious friendship.

 

It was during one of their rare stays in London – they had now started producing their records abroad – that Brian and Chrissie invited Friends and family to celebrate their son’s first birthday. Roger and Freddie had loudly protested the invitation, claiming they _didn’t do_ children’s birthday parties. But John had cajoled them into coming. He opened the door carrying little Jimmie and was promptly ‘relieved of the burden’ as Freddie put it, as he pulled the boy from Brian’s arms and placed him into Roger’s, who awkwardly held him. Brian had to chuckle – Roger looked adorable carrying his son – but ushered them inside. Granny May had just recently been gifted her first polaroid camera and she started excitedly snapping photos of a very overwhelmed Roger. Brian amusedly observed Jim playing with Roger’s slightly shorter hair and yanked it while giggling excitedly. A warm feeling flooded him and his and Roger’s eyes met, reminding him faintly of times past. They held eye contact for a few instances before Roger turned away decidedly a little pink. Brian stored that away for later. He felt the heaviness of a gaze on him and looked up to see his mum staring at him pensively. Suddenly the room felt to full of people he hardly knew, and he left for outside, blood pressure rising slightly. He breathed deep breaths and counted to fifty just as his therapist had taught him for when he felt anxious. After he felt marginally calmer, he opened his eyes again to find Roger, now without his son, inhaling nicotine deeply, his profile facing him. Roger exhaled and said lightly “Never gonna have children. They’re an annoying mess.” Brian tried not to feel offended “No, they’re not!” Roger looked at him pointedly but with a hint of cheek in his eyes that told Brian not to take it too seriously when he said: “Nah, they are. Annoying and stinking and loud.” “Not my son, he is neither!” Brian said stubbornly. Roger sucked in another drag of his cigarette, and Brian did _not_ focus on how his lips curled around the offending piece of death, breathed the smoke out again and pretended to be pensive. He turned back to Brian and gave him a warm smile that reached his eyes “You’re right. He is not.” “Damn right he is not!” Brian said smirking and pulled the cigarette away from in between Roger’s lips and let it drop to the ground. “But you stink. Of cigarette smoke and my son doesn’t need his lungs destroyed before he can control what he breathes in.” Roger laughed aloud at that and they went back inside, both in a little better mood.

Brian didn’t fail to notice the obvious separation between his and Chrissie’s families. The relationship between her family and him had grown slightly cold. He suspected they had imagined he’d end his career once their son had been born – which he had obviously failed to do – and get a desk job somewhere local. His parents in turn hadn’t treated Chrissie any different, but his mother had inquired about his general happiness, in a way that implied she didn’t expect the answer to be ‘ _good’_ , more than once already. He hadn’t really known what to answer her. He’d always wanted a family and now that that dream was fulfilled, he didn’t see himself letting that go.

Chrissie had been in the kitchen for quite some time, which prompted Brian to go inside to check on whether she needed help. He stopped short in the doorsill upon seeing his wife hastily stepping back from Dominique, her eyes looking suspiciously wet. “Chrissie, love, are you alright?” Brian asked concerned, completely unaware as to what could have caused her to cry. He looked at Dominique with a question on his lips as he noticed her undefinable gaze that hardened as he backed away. “I will leave you to it. I don’t want to cause a scene when our friends and families are present.” He sent a conciliatory glance towards his wife and tried to ignore Dominique’s slightly accusatory glance.

He was concerned about his wife and truly wanted to find out what she had been sad about but wanted to avoid a big confrontation at his son’s birthday parties. He was especially disinclined to make her problems with their relationship – he was positive it had to be that, or otherwise Chrissie would have surely told him – public in front of their families. Chrissie’s family already didn’t have the highest opinion of him. Back with the other people, he immediately pulled Roger aside and begged him to ask Dominique what Chrissie had been crying about. Roger looked at him very pointedly: “Bri, why don’t you ask her yourself. She is your wife after all.” Brian floundered “I – I don’t know. Really… We just – we don’t ever have problems so there is no need to talk about anything. We’ve never really had to talk about – you know, _us_.” Roger looked at him confusedly. “You should be able to ask her regardless…” He looked pensive. Brian felt a little ashamed _‘He is right. I should feel like I can ask her about it. And she, reciprocally, should be able to confront me with an issue she has…’_

Brian pushed that thought down and looked at his friend pleadingly. “Besides, don’t you think that it is not really my business to inquire about the state of your relationship – given…” He didn’t finish the sentence. Finally, Roger pinched his nose and sighed deeply. The response – “fine” – was muffled in his palm and Brian was unable to read Roger’s emotions, as his hand shielded his eyes. Relief flooded Brian and he hugged Roger briefly, ignoring his friend tensing up and left a hand lingering on Roger’s shoulder, looking deep into his friend’s eyes. “Thank you, Rog. You are a good friend.” He turned around quickly and pretended to ignore his friend colouring slightly and averting his eyes.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, both Brian and Roger were slightly more subdued, both prisoners of their own minds. For Brian this pensive behaviour was very common and was largely ignored, but their bandmates certainly noticed Roger’s unusual behaviour and tried to bring him out of it – mostly by placing little Jimmy into his arms and laughing at his inability to handle the little rascal.

Brian, however, was very concerned. It was truly striking that he and his wife habitually ignored issues. He thought back on his previous concern with her lack of ambition and combed through his memories, to find himself never mentioning it to her. Instead, he had turned to someone else to fill that gap. Had that been healthy? He felt torn. Brian found his gaze fixed on the way Roger’s face looked beautifully peaceful as he sat wedged between John and Brian’s mother, all three of them cooing over Jimmy in Roger’s arms. A sudden warmth flooded him. Guiltily, his gaze flitted towards his wife, who watched her son with hawk-eyes. She _was_ a great mother. He _liked_ their relationship. To him, one of the greatest forthcomings of her as a partner, was that they never had any obvious complains. If he was brutally honest with himself, he had picked her as partner, because she fit well with his expectations of a long-term partner – to provide a stable home. He had known, that a primary goal of his had been to be a father, to be able to have a career and come home to a family. He would never force his partner to be a stay-at-home mother, but the fact that Chrissie had been a woman that not only accepted that role but relished in it, had been one of the deciding factors in his choice. And he hadn’t necessarily minded that. As long as both partners were happy with their choice of lifestyle, he felt like their aspirations for life just fitted together surprisingly well. If Chrissie wasn’t comfortable with that lifestyle anymore though, that would pose problems. He mulled over this some more but didn’t come to an ultimate conclusion.

 

Once back at their apartment – when had it become _their_? – Roger didn’t even have to pester Dominique for details. “Did you know that Chrissie really suffers from her inability to face Brian with her problems? Is he always such an insensitive prick?”, blunt as always, she fixed him with a look that had him squirming in his seat. “I uh… You know Brian has always been more present in his own head rather than in the real world. He usually doesn’t notice social cues unless you rub them under his nose.” Roger averted his eyes and tried to stomp down the sly feeling of hope that overcame him with the realization that Brian’s fairy-tale marriage wasn’t as it seemed. Deep down, he knew he would never fully rid himself of this selfish emotion, where Brian was concerned, but he _tried_ to be a friend to Brian and a good partner to Dominique.

Brian was unfortunately a little dense in these ways. “Did she tell you what her issues are?” Dominique furrowed her brows. “I don’t know how helpful it is, if I tell _you_ that information. She vaguely mentioned that she felt a little suffocated in his expectations for her life. But I believe the major problem is that she feels that she can’t communicate her feelings with Brian. Seeing you guys interact just highlighted that fact… Maybe that is something you can direct him to do – confront her, to make sure they are on the same page. I don’t know Brian as well as you do, but I don’t think, he would force her to remain in a situation that she is unhappy in.” Roger nodded absentmindedly. He hadn’t talk to Brian in quite some time, and thus didn’t know the details of his relationship, but he knew how his best friend could be. No matter how awkward he might feel about it he vowed to talk to his friend, in order to save his relationship.

Later that same night, when he laid down – Dominque already fast asleep beside him – he thought about what new information had come to light today. Was Brian happy? His heart broke a little at that thought. His source for the strength to stop pursuing his friend stemmed from the conviction that this marriage was what Brian wanted for himself. His gaze traced the graceful features of Dominique. He sighed deeply. Even though he treasured her greatly in his life, the depth of his feelings didn’t compare to what he felt for Brian.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I'm sorry?  
> But I just love Dominique and wanted her to play a more prominent role in this story.   
> I hope you like it.
> 
> Anyway, I will be posting every Saturday from now on. I have pre-written a few chapters and am really, really excited to where this is going.  
> Byeeee

**Chapter 8.**

**1978**

The night after they had just returned from a tour to take a short break in between tours, Brian was woken up by his doorbell ringing repeatedly. He put on a dressing gown and the door to be greeted by the sight of an ashen-faced Roger shivering in the wind. Brian immediately ushered his friend inside and made him a hot tea. Roger simply sat in his kitchen, silent and smaller than himself somehow. There had been very few instances in which Brian had encountered Roger like this. “Roger talk to me!” Brian pleaded, genuinely scared for his friend that sat there, in his kitchen, freezing cold and silent.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Roger turned his face up, his eyes glassy, and looked at Brian. His heart broke a little at the sight of his best friend, arguably the person most dear to him, looking utterly lost.

“Bri? Can you..” Roger extended his arms and didn’t even have to finish his sentence before Brian brought him close and just held him. Roger didn’t cry. He breathed in shakily and seemed on the verge of hysteria. Brian had never seen his friend in such a state. “Bri?” Roger’s small voice was muffled almost to inaudibility “Bri, I am going to be a father.” Brian reared back. Roger? A father? “How long have you known?” He couldn’t eradicate that irrational feeling of betrayal – Roger bound to someone forever. Having a child – a proof of his love for someone else? His thoughts spiralled out of control. He forced his brain to tune back into whatever his friend – who needed him, goddammit (!) – was saying. “We just fucked up. I cannot be a father. I am a terrible role model – an alcoholic. I have to marry Dom… My own father was shit too, I don’t even know what to do. Bri… what if I turn out like him? Fuck Bri, I cannot do this.” Now Roger truly looked like he was on the verge of crying. Brian snapped back into action. “Shh, Rog. That is nonsense. You are going to be a great father. Your child will love you.” He pulled Roger close again and gently stroked Rogers hair. “It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t know for how long he and Roger just sat there in his kitchen, in the middle of the night. Roger pulled back. “Bri, you will be there for me, won’t you.” “Sure” Brian answered quickly, unthinking. “No, I mean it!” Roger’s eyes shone with an uncanny intensity. “You are the best father I know. You need to help me. Otherwise…” he averted his eyes, guilt clear in his eyes. “Otherwise I won’t be able to do this.” Brian nodded slowly his heart sinking. A cold, hard clump formed in his stomach as he voiced his thoughts: “You should ensure that Dominique is secure in life. Are you going to ask to marry her?”  Brian forced out. He could already see their story, as would be told to their many children: Best friends turned to loving life-long partners through a fortunate contraception accident. But he had to do this. It was for the best. Roger looked up at him wide-eyed. “That is true…” he mused: “I have a stable income… I will have to change a few of my behaviours.” He didn’t need to specify _which_ behaviours he was referring to exactly, the flush creeping over his cheekbones did that for him. Brian tried hard not to react.

Roger stayed silent for a while. “What do I even do, Bri? I won’t be a good father, since we’re always gone.” He glanced at Brian quickly, almost apologetically. “And unlike your wife, Dom will surely not want to stay and wait for me while I am gone.” Brian swallowed thickly. “Exactly these considerations will make you a good husband and father, Rog… Do you want to stay here until the morning to go back?”

Roger shook his head vehemently. “I should go back. I…” he scratched his head in obvious discomfort, “I sort of left Dom, after she told me the news… I should make sure that she doesn’t do anything drastic.” He stood and Brian followed with a heavy heart. Roger stepped back a few steps, starting his thank you and goodbye, but cut himself off. “Thank you, Brian, you are truly my best friend.” He said quietly and stepped back up into Brian’s personal space, looking up at him with earnest eyes and kissed him on one cheek.

Brian exhaled long moments after Roger was already gone. These news were like a punch to his gut. He had tried to keep the jealousy, threatening to drown him, in check while Roger was still here, to – for once – be a good friend to him, but the knowledge that Roger was so willing in binding himself to another person didn’t agree with him. Somehow, he had always thought Roger to be unbound and free – _available_. He hated the thought the second he had it. He went back to his bed, his wife on the left side, sank down and tried not to feel shatteringly left behind. He stared into the dark for hours and listened to the soft, regular breaths that the woman, which had committed her life to him, puffed out. He should try to be there for her and their growing family more. Chrissie’s stomach was swollen again, but instead of a homely feeling, he only felt cold dread. He had willingly, consciously produced two human beings, his _children_ , brought them into the world and felt dread at the thought of reinvigorating his relationship with their mother. Brian was truly disgusted with himself. He traced her pregnant bump, with his hand, his wedding band very noticeable, and felt a little kick against his palm. He had to try. He would be home more and help Chrissie feel more cherished in their relationship – a desire she had expressed after Jimmy’s birthday. Maybe she could get a job in teaching, that would make her feel more needed, he mused. Slightly calmed by this vow, he tried to fall asleep and not think about what Roger and Dominique were presently doing.

 

 

“Where were you?!”  Dominique stood in the doorway blocking the entrance to their shared apartment. “Where did you go after I told you I was pregnant, and we needed to have a conversation.” Her eyes blazed with fury and red patches of stress were visible on her neck and chest. She was beautiful. Scary, but beautiful. “I… I needed you to be there.” She admitted more quietly. And turned away from Roger hugging her torso. “If you don’t want the child, I can remove myself from your life, and it will be like it never happened…” Roger stepped inside and dropped a hand on her shoulders, which were curving inward. She turned around and looked him straight in his face. “I just thought it wrong to exclude you from that choice.” Roger swallowed thickly around the lump in his throat. “No, no. I want to keep it.”

Dominique seemed to deflate a little and scratched her forehead defeatedly before piercing him with her eyes again. “You didn’t tell me where you went.” Her eyes had something sharp to them and her lips were pressed together tightly, no blood left in them. He winced. “Just at Brian’s – I needed some support.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “From a friend.” he added quickly, irrationally. She huffed “What is it with Brian for you, huh? I understand you used to have a thing but…” He froze immediately. He had never told her. Dominique shifted back on her feet, crossed her arms and studied him. He had to purposely relax every muscle and go through with what he came for. “He gave me good advice.” He mumbled and then took a deep breath and leaned forward to take her hand. “Dominique, will you marry me?” Belatedly he dropped to one knee, realizing that’s what people did. Probably.

She scoffed. _Scoffed_. “You know,” she said calmly. “Wondering whether you should ask someone to marry them should always include the question would you marry her if she weren’t carrying your baby.” She pulled back and looked down at him earnestly. “I don’t want to marry you just because we’re going to co-parent a child.” Roger stood up confusedly, is pride a little hurt but also a little relieved. His heart hadn’t been in it. They would have married for the wrong reasons. “Now tell me about Brian and you. We have an open relationship, which you and I benefit from, but if I remember correctly, we had the agreement to lay all our cards on the table and tell the other if there is anything but sex with someone else.” “There is nothing going on between me and him.” He hurried to assure her. Her answer was an eyebrow arched ridiculously high. “I need to trust you in this, Roger.” She said very quiet but pronounced. “I don’t care who else is in your life, but I want, no I _need_ you to be in this one’s life if you commit to this child.” She dropped her hand to her lower torso at this. “And for this I need to be able to put full faith in you.” The silence that followed was deafening.

“I- We…” He didn’t know how to start. _Or_ how carry on, for that matter. “We used to… I –. I will never not love him, I think.” He whispered out, to guilty to look her in the eye. “Go on.”, she encouraged, not unkindly. “We had… a _thing_ … I don’t even know what he’d call it. Before he got with Chrissie… Well, before they married, to be honest.” He cringed at that. “But fact is, I loved him. And I still do. But… He doesn’t anyway. So, I tried to get better. And I did – you helped me a lot. You were exactly what I needed in that moment. A great, great friend.” He forced himself to make eye contact at that. “Oh, Roger.” She breathed and pulled him close. They just stood there, each clinging to the other.

She stepped back and the knowledge of his answer was painted across her face. “Do you love me?” It hurt him greatly to admit it, but he had to be honest, if it was only in this. “As a friend – yes. And I can imagine spending my life with you at my side, but… It’s just not.” He breathed in deeply and then let it out. “It’s just not like with him.” Dominique let out a shaky breath. “I know, and I think I knew the whole time…” her voice was thick with tears and Roger hated himself in that moment. Why couldn’t he put his best friend aside and just love this woman before him, this wonderful, strong, good-hearted woman, whom he would even share parenthood with. “I am so sorry, Dominque. I wish it were different.” Was all he could voice. “It’s okay.” She looked up at him teary eyed and smiled a crooked little smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl after all.” Affection flooded him and he pulled her to his chest.

After a few long seconds she pushed him away. “Nonetheless, we should focus on the issues at hand. We made a mistake and we need to take responsibility. I will. Will you as well, knowing that this may diminish your chances with Brian?” He straightened and nodded decisively, not a shred of uncertainty within him. “Yes, I want this. I could not have wished for a better mother to my child and a better friend on my side for the life to come.” He knew.


	14. Chapter 14

**A few months later.**

The phone rang for the third time. Finally, she picked up the receiver. Brian cringed at the sigh he was greeted with, even before she knew what he wanted to tell her. “Chrissie, look, it’s going to be late today and….”, he trailed off, not knowing what to add. Too many calls of this sort had been made lately. He knew, just knew she hated it, even if she didn’t tell him. But he just couldn’t stop. Finally, for the first time in a long time, the passion had reignited within the band and they had tried many different creative things for their newest album. He still blushed when playing _Jealousy_ , but the confiding look Freddie usually gave him assured him. Roger wouldn’t know. Never.

Chrissie breathing in deeply brought him back to the call. “Brian, don’t you remember? We wanted to spend some time tonight. Before the little one is here?” She sounded like she knew Brian’s answer. He glanced at his friends, who seemed to be enjoying themselves thoroughly. They were trying out new things for this new song they were working on. Even Dom was in the studio, currently flirting with one of the sound managers. He seemed very flustered. Especially as Roger stood up and introduced himself, playfully placing a kiss on her cheek and smirking at the poor guy. He turned back towards his phone call, Roger’s smirk had been _that_ type of smirk. Playful on the edge of heated – just enough insinuation to make any man forget his preferences. It hit a little close to home. “Chrissie, we wanted to go out after… I don’t think I have time tonight. Sorry, dear…” Suddenly it occurred to him: “You should come! It would be great. Just get the nanny to babysit Jim and join us. Feel young again, dear.” The line was silent.

The silence dragged on for too long. “Brian, I… I wouldn’t fit in. Look at me, I am almost bursting.” She sounded defeated. Brian felt guilty immediately. He could just finish up now. It was still a respectable hour to come home at. He looked back at his friends to find Roger had let off that poor sound manager and was looking at him with an appreciative, yet a slightly remorseful look on his face as his eyes snapped back up to Brian’s face. Something constricted within Brian. “Look, Chrissie, we’ll talk tomorrow. I just can’t leave now, we’re working on something very important.” His eyes followed Roger, who was strolling back to his drums and almost lazily set up a rhythm. “I… I love you, bye.” He cut off the phone.

A few hours later, the five of them were all in a pub somewhere in London. Freddie and Roger were drinking ridiculous amounts of vodka and gin and were by then reduced to giggling in between more or less coherent statements. John was dancing with Veronica _somewhere_ and Brian and Dom were sitting across the two drunkards. Dom was of course enjoying a non-alcoholic beverage while he was sipping a beer. He looked at her in the dim lighting, finding her features beautifully illuminated in the warm light hanging overhead, making her rosy cheekbones more pronounced and her dark hair warm and shiny. It looked a little like molten chocolate. He figured it wasn’t hard to see what Roger loved about her. She was gorgeous. But the generously indulgent look she gave her boyfriend proved their relationship went deeper than skin. Her gaze was warm as she regarded the man-acting-boy across from her. He turned back towards Roger and Freddie. The blonde was flushed prettily and his eyes glittered with mirth, as he bend down to Freddie’s ear to whisper something into their friend’s ear. “Look at them…”, Dominique leaned back in their bench. She didn’t look at Brian but remained focussed on the pair across them with a smile gracing her mouth, as if she was part of some private joke.  He followed her line of sight. “It’s good you four are back at your a-game when it comes to your music. It does him good.” Roger turned his attention from what he and Freddie had been giggling about to him. The intensity of his friend’s gaze made him shudder. He knew that gaze all too well. Hooded lids but a bright intense gaze underneath – quintessentially Roger’s bedroom eyes. And they were on him in full force. He wrenched his eyes away and ignored the stiffening in his trousers. Dominique must have seen, too. How much did she know? “And it’s nice seeing him so well after all that has happened.” Finally, she turned towards him and her gaze was suddenly a lot more serious. He gulped. She seemed to be looking for something in his face. Dom appeared to have found whatever it was, because her gaze turned warm again.

She pushed up and sighed dramatically. “I should go. This one is getting quite heavy.” She patted her belly and laughed a little. He couldn’t help the flare of petty jealousy. She bent down to kiss him goodbye as was common for her. Brian tried to push down the bitterness that lingered like a foul taste in his mouth. He thought he had heard her whisper something into his ear but hadn’t understood, he’d been too deep in his mind. It was also simply too loud, and he didn’t bother asking her what she’d meant. He knew he was petty. She repeated the motion for the other two at the table, to which Freddie exclaimed he needed to leave, too, since he had some fantastic idea for a drawing that he just very desperately needed to grace the bathroom walls with. Brian saw the exact moment, Roger’s alcohol-muddled mind realized that he would be alone with him. The sudden panic and desperate grab of his girlfriend’s hand to prevent her from leaving, stung. Brian averted his gaze, suddenly angry – irrationally, so, Brian recognized. It didn’t matter – he couldn’t shake it. Dom left nonetheless and Brian just gloomily drank his beer. He had thought they were past that. But it appeared to be true, alcohol made people more honest, he thought bitterly.

 

**Roger’s P.O.V.**

They sat silent across from one another. Roger noticed that Brian was even more subdued and seemed even a little tense. He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at staring at his former… his… _Brian_ so openly. He hadn’t been given an outright _okay_ from Dom to go for Brian, but she knew what he felt and nonetheless left them alone, in a bar, both a little drunk. This was all disregarding Brian’s feelings on the matter, of course. But Roger knew he couldn’t trust himself with Brian. The man just knew how to make him tick. And making him _tick_ , he did. Brian looked incredibly sexy, when he was brooding and god, how did he wish for his thoughts to be turning around Roger just a fraction of how often Roger thought about his friend. His lithe frame sat a little hunched over the table and he thumbed this beer bottle’s opening absentmindedly, while staring into nothing. Roger felt something turning in the pit of his stomach as his gaze dropped lower to where his friend was worrying his lip with sharp teeth. Hot and cold flooded him, one impression after the other. He knew what these teeth felt like, remembered the sensation keenly. He felt his face heating even more as his gaze trailed lower, to where Brian’s open shirt revealed skin pulled taught over the dip in between fragile collarbones. Roger knew these felt so very different than his own. More solid, yet more breakable. The cold churning happened again and just seconds later, Roger recognized that feeling.

The last thing he heard before he was retching out his stomach’s content into a bin just outside the pub was his name being called by Brian. When his friend, first confused, then concerned had caught up to him, he felt his tresses being pulled back and a cool hand being placed on his neck.

At some point, Roger got himself back and gladly accepted the water bottle, Brian had somehow procured, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He gurgled some water and spat it out to rid himself of the aftertaste. Sheepishly he glanced up into his friend’s face that thankfully did not look disgusted or annoyed, albeit maybe a little frustrated. “Seems even I am getting older. ‘Used to be able to hold my alcohol much better.”, he shrugged, trying for nonchalance. Brian just rolled his eyes and played with his hair almost unconsciously. “Let me get you home, Rog.”, Brian huffed a laugh. ‘ _There used to be a time, this would have meant something quite different.’_ Roger mused as Brian pulled him upright gently and stabilized his gait by weaving a long, sinewy arm around Rogers torso. Roger basked in the warmth this closeness to Brian provided and tried to secretly get a little closer. Roger was trying to smell some of Brian’s scent as he noticed the older wanted to hail a cab. “Bri, nooo.”, he knew, he sounded winey. “Let us walk. It is just a few blocks…”. Brian looked down: “We would have to take at least two stations with the tube, Rog. Don’t be ridiculous. You hate the tube!”, what Bri said was reasonable, but Roger wanted to cling to that moment just a little while longer. “The cold air does me good.”, he reasoned. “I still feel a little nauseous.” Brian sighed but simply asked whether he could even walk for such a long while. Roger huffed indignantly. “I can! It’s just… you’re warm.” He mumbled into his friend’s lapels. He rearranged their arms so than Brian’s were circling his shoulders and his were at his friend’s waist. “See, now we can both walk perfectly fine!”, he grinned up at his friend, who looked willing to indulge him.

They passed a few streets before any of them spoke. “Sooo.” Brian drew out his vowels, “You and Dom, huh? What is the… status quo?”, he seemed to hesitate. Roger remained silent for a few beats. “I mean… You don’t have to tell me. I could completely understand if you didn’t…” “I don’t really know what is there to tell, beyond what everyone can clearly tell.”, he sucked in a deep breath. ‘ _God, do I want a cigarette, now’_ “We’re obviously having a baby together.”, he laughed that much should be pretty obvious by now. Brian didn’t laugh. He stared at him, quietly. That sobered him a little. He thought more deeply about wat Brian was really enquiring about. “Apart from that, we’re good. Great actually.” It felt good being able to say that in front of Brian and really mean it, but nonetheless, he was curious as to how he would react. From his angle, slightly below his friend’s head, he saw Brian’s jaw clench a little as he looked away. ‘ _He is just so freakishly tall._ ’ Roger pushed the reaction to this thought far down. _‘Not the right time Rog!’_ Something within him clenched anxiously, though. Brian pulled him a little closer, maybe unconsciously, and Roger shuddered, which immediately elicited an enquiry about whether he was cold. He smiled a little to himself. Brian was always so bloody courteous. He wanted to kiss him. ‘Maybe just a little peck? Just there, where his jaw hit his earlobe.’, he wondered but quickly shook himself out of it. Musings about his friend’s physique had been what’d gotten him into this mess the first place.

Brian seemed hesitant as he asked the next question. “I can’t help but notice you didn’t marry.”, his face scrunched up in a way that Roger knew shouldn’t make him feel so damn hopeful. He gently extricated himself from their quasi-embrace and picked out a cigarette from the breast pocket of his jean jacket. They had both stopped and Roger leaned against a half-wall, that confined the garden beyond. He played with his unlit cigarette. Brian stood across from him, hands in his pockets, looking a little cold. The street lights hit his back just so. His form was perfectly outlined. He noticed his friend had lost some weight. These velvet trousers used to be rather tight on him. Roger felt himself blush and wrenched his eyes away from Brian’s figure, aware that the streetlights illuminating Brian from behind were rendering him completely visible. Brian was looking at him closely and he needed something to occupy his hands and thus lighted his cigarette.

He took a deep drag and noted amused that Brian’s face only scrunched up a little in response. “We decided against it.” He shrugged and added: “It wouldn’t have been for the right reasons anyway.” Brian looked at him attentively and seemed a little uncomprehending. “She trusts me and I her, to support one another well enough even without being bonded by a promise to an institution we both don’t believe in.”, he elaborated. “Okay, but don’t you want to form a proper family with her? Like a unit or something of that sort?”, it was rare, that Brian May was so ineloquent with his words. He seemed to be frustrated by it, too – he looked like he had bitten on a lemon. It made Roger chuckle. ‘ _Of course, he wouldn’t understand it._ ’ Well, you know, how Dom and I enjoy our time together, but this… us is a little more… open?”, he was trying to ease his friend into the concept. Roger was blushing a little, he knew. Brian’s eyebrows rose minutely. He cleared his throat and proceeded more confidently. “She is an independent woman besides, she doesn’t need me to take care of her in the traditional sense.” He took one look at Brian and realized his friend didn’t understand at all.

“Ah, Bri! For the fact that you are supposedly super smart, it takes you a long time to catch a drift.” He ruffled through his hair. Took another deep inhale of nicotine. “We are… we like _being_ together, and I love her as a friend, but…”, he searched for words. Brian’s face was a mask. “I am decidedly _not_ drunk enough for this.”, he mumbled more to himself than anyone else. He focused on the essence of what he wanted to convey. “I couldn’t imagine having a child with any woman but her, she is a best friend and we love each other, but we’re not…” warmth flooded him, it was true: “together. We both have our reasons…”, he concluded evasively. Regardless of his guilt at basically admitting he was still hung up on Brian – a happily married man, for all intents and purposes – he wanted to know how Brian responded. He brought the cigarette to his lips and sucked in deeply. Before he could pull it away to exhale, Brian reached for the stub. To Roger’s great surprise, instead of throwing it away, he pulled a drag himself, just to immediately exhale and coughing. Roger laughed surprised and Brian joined him. “Wretched things!”, another cough, “I don’t know how you do it.” “Practice.”, he conceded, pushing away from the half-wall to continue their walk home. He was a few strides further when he realized Brian hadn’t joined him and turned. “I don’t think, I quite understand it.”, his friend said in a low pitch, “But, I suppose, she does you good.” Brian joined up to him an fewer strides due to his long legs. “You laugh more.” he said quietly and Roger thought he could hear pain in his voice. It made his heart race and clench simultaneously. He reached out to his friend and slipped his hand into his pockets in quiet consolation.


	15. Chapter 15

**A few hours later.**

Brian had been trapped in his own mind the whole morning. He brought Roger to his doorstep – his and _Dominique’s_. And Roger had stepped into his space, seemingly a little drowsy and smiled up to him – one of those quiet, small smiles, one of those even he rarely got to see. And Brian’s breath had been taken away. The air between them had thrummed with _something_ , but Brian couldn’t be sure whether Rog even realized, as drunk and as tired as his friend was. It was a private little moment that made his stomach clench with guilt even now, the day after. Nothing had happened, Roger’s nose had been red from the cold, when he turned and stumbled towards the door. But what had Brian filled with guilt was the realization, that he hoped it _had_.

It was a Sunday and thus, neither Brian nor his wife had any specific plans or commitments. He always tried to keep at least his Sundays free of work, but usually found himself restless and itchy to sit down with pen and paper to write or play on the Red Special. This Sunday, he vowed he would truly spend with his family. He couldn’t figure out what his lasting attraction to his friend meant, that is, he didn’t want to acknowledge it. _Couldn’t_ deal with the consequences. His guilt led him to focus his attentions on little Jimmy to avoid his wife. He didn’t want to think about the previous night. A few unconnected lyrics occurred to him throughout the day and he scribbled them down, not really trying to piece them together or imagining how they would sound.

In the afternoon, Chrissie had prepared a few strawberry tarts and the two sat together in their living-room area with a cup of green tea while Brian was reading a good book. “This is lovely honey. These are delicious.”, he looked over the rim of his book and smiled at his wife. She returned it – albeit a little stiffly. He was torn between wanting to return to his reading and knowing he should talk to his wife. She sat of to his left on a separate couch and had nothing to occupy herself with but the steaming cup of tea in her hands. Also, she just seemed like she had something on her chest.

Berating himself internally for having given her an opportunity to corner him into a conversation, he sighed, lowered the book. “It’s nice that you are home.” Chrissie stroked her stomach absentmindedly. The gesture was making Brian smile. He couldn’t wait to meet the little one. He hummed noncommittally. The accusatory _for once_ didn’t need to be said aloud. Brian knew everyone thought of him a slightly socially inept, but he noticed these things in his wife’s tone. She made sure to keep conversations light but… ‘Where is this going?’ he was getting defensive, and he knew it. Brian decided to take a deep breath in and a deep breath out to regroup and took a sip of tea for good measure, put on a warm smile and agreed that he loved being home, should really spend more time there and more often.

The look of hope in Chrissie’s eyes crushed him. He sipped at his tea again. “I had a thought, sometime in these past months.”, he tried to divert from his promises. “You were saying that you would like to fill your time with things other than our child – children, a few times.”, he corrected. She didn’t respond, and so he pushed on, trying to get his point across. “What I am saying is: Once this one is out.”, he reached across and patted her stomach with a light touch. “You will – or rather _should_ – have much more time to yourself. I think it’s just unfair, that I get to … go travel the world and you spend all your time coped up at home with the children.” She placed a hand atop his, which he took as a sign to continue. “You should do something you fill fulfilled with – something _you_ love doing. For yourself. Didn’t you always dream of becoming a teacher?”, he knew he’d said the wrong thing as she deflated. The worst thing were her eyes. The small flicker of hope made way to desolation and sadness. He didn’t understand.

Chrissie pulled away and moved to the window facing the terrace. It was a beautiful day, their small backyard was brightly lit and Jimmy was outside playing with a doll. She seemed very alone, lit from the front, her back to his. “This is your great plan?”, she asked quietly. Brian stood and crossed the distance. “Don’t you think that would be great? We could hire a full-time nanny, or better an au-pair. I always wanted Jim to learn a different language…”, he trailed off. Chrissie had woven her arms around herself and her shoulders were curved in, as his fingers had reached out to touch her, she flinched. “I like being there for my children. They need me and…”, he voice was brittle and thick with unshed tears. “But that is the problem, isn’t it? You want to feel more needed! That would be the perfect way – A much needed compromise between both of our lifestyles. And, for me, it would be _great_.”, he interrupted. “I mean to say, I wouldn’t feel as guilty…” She tensed and turned, her eyes hard as steel, the brows above drawn tight. Then, she exploded. “That would be great for you wouldn’t it. To make sure your wife is occupied with something, to not have her realize how little you actually are here!”, he had never seen her like that. “You’re right. I want to feel needed. Why, the bloody hell, do you think I tell you that?!”, she all but screamed. “Don’t you think that I notice, that you’re never here? That you much prefer to be busy with work. And when you do come home, you seem to exclusively do it for the children?”, her voice was broken by tears, running out of her eyes in earnest now. “Honey, I didn’t…” “How far has this come? I just want you to be here, be my partner, someone I can rely on and bring to meet my friends and be part of my life.”, her voice was pained. “Is that too much to ask?”

Blood pounded in Brian’s ears, wind was blowing through an opened window and set the chimes, he had built himself and gifted Chrissie in motion. “I don’t know what you want me to do exactly.”, he finally admitted. “And to be honest, I don’t really know, what you are talking about. I do spend time with you! I love you, and really this is just a phase in a relationship. This will pass.”, but his words sounded hollow, even to himself. She looked at him hopelessly. “Will you change?”, she asked more quietly. “Of course.”, she didn’t let him finish his assurances. “I am serious, Brian? Will you dial down your work and spend more time here. Not just in London but with _us_ , with this unborn child. Can you promise me that we will be part of your life from now on? Can you look me in the eye and promise me that you will spend more time here, maybe even consider a job in town?” He looked at her. She knew, before he did, what his answer was going to be. Brian’s gaze flitted across the room, over his wife, out into the yard, where his little boy sat, looking at them intently – almost intelligently – but he couldn’t... His eyes moved further. There was nothing that could make him not miss music, the band – he sounded so selfish, it made him sick. His gaze moved back to his wife, his lip trembled, and unshed tears prickled his nose. “I can’t. But…”, he moved forward to comfort his wife, who was crying silent tears, but she turned her face and moved back.

“You need to leave.” She said finally. “I want you gone.” Cold flooded Brian. “No, Chrissie, you can’t mean that…” She looked him in the eye. “I do. Leave. Pack your things and go. I can’t… No longer. It hurts.”, he made a move towards her. We can sleep over this, honey. We’ll...” “It won’t change! You are who you are and that is okay. But not for this relationship.”, he reared back. She was serious. “Leave now, before…”, she sounded broken. He backed away a few steps. “We will talk about this again. We can fix this, I know.” “Leave!”, she begged, her voice breaking.

Brian fled. Her sobs ringing in his ear.

 

Brian’s first instinct had been to sleep at Roger’s, but as he stood in front of their apartment’s door, he couldn’t bring himself to ring the bell. He didn’t know why precisely, however he somehow felt as if he were betraying Chrissie – which was ridiculous. Roger, or his relationship with him, was not related to his fight, he refused to think of it as a break up, with his wife. Yet, as he stood in front of his friend’s apartment he knew, that he shouldn’t enter. For lack of any other options that would not encompass uncomfortable questions he walked back to his car, which was parked in front of his friend’s apartment and reclined his seat. It wasn’t terribly comfortable, which was good because it prevented him from thinking too deeply about what had happened with his family, but as he became more and more drowsy – the heating was on even though it was bad for the environment – his thoughts returned to the matter at hand. He tried to understand his wife. Quintessentially, she wanted him to be more present in their lives, to a degree where he would perhaps even have to quit the band. His thoughts stumbled over his phrasing. Since when had he thought of his family to be separated into them and him, their lives and his. Brian sighed. Maybe this had always been the case. He felt unbearably selfish. He loved his children and wanted to be a good father to them, but being a father was a part of him just as being a musician was. He tried to find the rational explanation for his reluctance to give up his career.

It wasn’t the money, he knew, since although they hadn’t seen much profit from their work, even though they were wildly famous at this point, he made a decent living. He had enough savings to ensure a comfortable period between now and a potential new job. He could always pursue his degree again… ‘Is it the high of performing?’ he wondered but could negate that almost as soon as the thought appeared. He received a rush from being on stage – that much was certainly true – but the depth of that emotion paled in comparison to the love and duty he felt towards his family. Brian conjured up the image of the young man, bleeding or heavily calloused hands, a faraway look in his eyes, as he had seen it in pictures taken. The curly haired boy was alone. Isolated. Somewhere within Brian today, this boy still existed, still longed for acceptance with a fierce desperation. He thought about Freddie and Deaky and the joy and elation he felt when one of his friends finished a song, that they had spend enough time working on to be sick of it. The delight to see his friends being so proud of something they had created together, fought about, discussed and laughed over, had slaved hours on getting the lyrics, the melody or the rhythm just right. The emotion that overcame their insecurities. Brian smiled to himself. And finally, Roger. Whose impossibly blue eyes would sparkle with mischief upon writing something that Brian would immediately be classifying as ridiculous. The trust he had in his friend and the love and acceptance he knew he would find in Roger. He remembered Christmas, so many years ago now, when he had not been able to settle down until he had found his friend and asked him to spend the holiday with them. Upon seeing Roger in this homely atmosphere, he had immediately felt inspired to write. Brian knew of course, that Roger didn’t necessarily share the extent of Brian’s passion for music, to the point of forgetting his surroundings if inspiration struck, but his friend had always been able to share his determination and celebrated Brian for what other people thought of as his flaws. Brian realized that the only times, when he had truly been able to be himself and not be shamed for it had not been his parent or his wife – it had been his friend. _Friends_. Brian corrected guiltily.

He had always known that the band was his second family but to realize the depth of his emotion left him staggering. This was the truth, he knew it instinctively. Brian buried his face in the crook of his arm, willing the world to go away. He desperately willed the image of his family, as printed on the picture in their living room, to his head – tried to re-anchor himself but it was useless. His thoughts were spinning. Finally, he realized what he had known subconsciously as he had been standing in front of Roger’s door. He was glad he hadn’t entered the building straight after the fight. Going to Roger would have been a final betrayal of his wife in deed.


End file.
